


And When We Meet

by underthecovers



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Accidental Stimulation, Angst, Bellamy is Clarke's ex boyfriend, Birthday party slow dancing, Clexa, Clexa Endgame, Clexa fanfic, Clexaweek2018, Costia and Lexa have already broken up, Day 4, Erotica, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Indra is the cool mom, It's a seaside romantic coming together of two people who need to let go of their pasts, Nia is not the Ice Queen in this. She's a frightening Sheriff, Raven is probably going to make hell for Clarke, Sharing a sleeper cabin, Slow Burn Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Smut Eventually, a little on hiatus until I finish my first fic, clexa fanfiction, military Octavia, strangers on a train
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-03-25 06:47:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13828749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underthecovers/pseuds/underthecovers
Summary: Clarke Griffin has booked an overnight sleeper cabin on a train. She meets her roommate for the night, Lexa Forest.Lexa is a prickly young lawyer headed to her foster parent's new home for the first time and some needed respite. The family is gathering for her 30th birthday.Clarke is returning home after ten years for her mother's upcoming nuptials. She's broken up with her boyfriend of two years and is ready to heal past wounds.During the evening Lexa accidentally gets Clarke all hot and bothered and things get a little crazy after that. The two women end up heading to the same place and Clarke is determined to get past the fortress Lexa has built around her heart.There's drama. A lot of fun playing with cultural norms, it's a little slow burn but not too much as these girls stumble over their need for one another as they and their friends and families work out their issues.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I had no idea where this was going. I posted this for Clexa Week 2018 "Accidental Stimulation" as I had the idea in my head. I thought it would be fun. I'm posting one chapter now but I think this might end up being a multi-chapter fic. I will work on it some more as soon as I've finished Doctor On The Ground.
> 
> Please enjoy.

Clarke Griffin stared down at her battered cell to recheck the carriage number. All around her she can hear the sounds of trains pulling in as announcements echo in the colossal terminus, red caps pull past with luggage and families wander around like lost, confounded sheep. She stares up at the boards to find the right track for her train to Arcadia.

She can't miss it. This is the last train to Arcadia for the day. She'll have to get the Greyhound which isn't an option as she gets the worse case of travel sickness on buses. She hates buses. 

There were no direct flights into Arcadia without having to go through Washington so yeah, the train it is. 

Clarke pulls her travel bag behind her which she figures is small enough to fit into the deluxe sleeper cabin she managed to book at the last minute. It's an overnight trip, and they'll be getting into Arcadia around 11 in the morning tomorrow. The carriage is a two person which means she's going to have to share the sleeper compartment. 

Please God, don't let it be a creep. 

Clarke gets hit on. A lot. She knows her blonde-hair and blue-eyes attracts the attention of certain types of men. She's strong enough to bring their fantasies to a screeching halt, but it's tiring. She hopes the train service has a policy to put women traveling singly with other women or unaccompanied children. 

She rechecks her phone before stepping up on the train stairs before opening up the carriage door.

**** ***** *****

Lexa Woods snuggles into the comfort of the train seat. She stares out onto the platform and watches the mad rush of people outside. 

She watches as small children run from frantic parents, and lanky adolescents still in their private school uniforms move in small clusters with the enormous backpacks that tilt them slightly forward as they jostle and flirt and carry on as only kids on school break can. 

Not like people like herself who are still in their city suits as they headed towards family and home for the weekend.

It has been a long year, and she had finally stood up to Titus saying that she needed to time off. She is desperate to head back home for a family emergency. 

She didn't need to tell him that the family emergency was her. 

That the panic attacks that would sweep through her body had become worse. 

Her caseload had been ridiculous in the last six months. Once Titus had told her that she was on the partnership track and she needed to prove herself to the other senior partners of Azgeda, Polis, and Broadleaf her life had stopped being her own. 

Lexa had put in twelve hour days minimum. She'd written briefs long into the night, and she had sat as second chair for Titus going into court defending their corporate plaintiffs before the Washington courts. 

It had been easier since Costia left. She didn't need to defend how she spent her time anymore. How she stayed late, got home and slept for a few hours, showered and then started the day again. She didn't have to explain the dark circles under her eyes and the way her clothes have become looser on her.

And then a few weeks ago she'd been caught in the express elevator to Nia Azgeda's office. She'd been stuck there for almost forty-five minutes before they'd been able to get her out. 

She'd walked out looking impervious and had ignored her colleagues who wanted to know if she was ok. Of course, she was ok. Why wouldn't she be? 

It was only later as she headed into the subway and they'd gone into a tunnel that the pain in her chest exploded and she'd felt curls of real fear creep around her heart and all she could think of was that she was going to die. She'd made it home, but she could smell the stink of her fear on her skin and her clothes.

The panic attacks would sneak up on her in the worst possible ways. She never knew when they would come and this made the tension of walking into courtrooms hell. She was dressed to kill on the outside, but no-one could see or hear the sharp inhalations of terror that clawed at her insides.

The only thing that seemed to keep them at bay was reading fan fiction which she'd stumbled upon by accident. 

She'd been watching her favorite legal series on Netflix over a weekend where she didn't have to be anywhere for once and had wanted to know more about the actors on the show. She'd gone exploring on Google when she discovered that there was a whole world out there where people wrote stories about their favorite characters. She'd found an entire universe of people who commented on the show or wrote 'stuff.' 

Erotic 'stuff.' 

Stories about the growing story-line on the show about the lead investigator at a Chicago police department and one of the up and coming female lawyers in the prosecutor's office. 

Some people called it queerbaiting as the two women never did more than connect gazes or say things that could have been construed in a myriad of ways.

It was clever. Titillate the male gaze and draw in the LGBTQIA+ community with the hope that they'd finally get lead characters who were queer. So far, there was way more happening in the world of fan fiction.

Lexa loved coming home and filling the bath and then lying in hot scented water and inhaling steam as she listened to the stories being read out loud through her e-reader. It was one of her secret vices and something that no-one at the law firm she'd been working with since college knew.

Whisky and an excellent full-bodied chardonnay were her not so secret vices although she rarely indulged at Friday evening work events. But yes, they helped with the tightening around her chest and the not being able to breathe.

She'd downloaded the latest stories from her favorite authors and had a few that she'd read a few times over on her e-reader shelf. She wasn't sure how spotty the free Wifi would get on the train and sleep had been difficult lately. The only thing that helped her get rest was the sound of the robotic voice of her female reader on her app.

Lexa had a few briefing notes that she needed to go over carefully that she'd placed on the table before her. The room smelled like it had been freshly cleaned and the plush furnishings created a lovely, calm space which she desperately needed.

She glanced at her watch and noted that departure was only a few minutes away. She was crossing her fingers and praying that she wouldn't have to share and so far, it looked like her prayers were being answered.

The cabin door slid open loudly, and someone stumbled in. Blonde hair that spilled from a loose bun, black jeans that shimmered around long legs that tapered upwards toward a slim waist, and the most shockingly blue eyes Lexa had ever seen.

Well so much for a lovely quiet trip on her own. She tried to smile. She truly did. The girl was gorgeous, but Lexa did not want company. What if - she felt the sneaky tendrils of her fears creep along her chest before slamming it down. She was ok, and she was not going to have a panic attack. She could do this.

*********** *********** ******************

Clarke hadn't meant to slide the door open so fast, but she couldn't quite get the handle right as she was juggling a satchel, her phone and dragging her luggage behind as she'd not been able to find someone to help her in time. 

She hadn't seen the laptop case which had sent her tumbling into the shared cabin space which already held another occupant. A gorgeous occupant but still, lethal if she wasn't going to put her stuff away.

"Hey, sorry. I didn't see your laptop bag."

Green eyes stared at her taking Clarke in a slow gaze that seemed to be taking inventory.

"My apologies. I thought I'd left it in a relatively safe spot."

God, that voice. Like honeyed figs on a warm summer afternoon. Clarke tilted her head and felt an insane desire to make the woman read War and Peace to her for the next several hours.

She dumped her satchel on the chair opposite the green-eyed woman and put her luggage in the space allocated for it by the window. 

Clarke could feel eyes on her as she slowly pulled off the old, banged up leather jacket she'd found at a market stall in Italy. She loved that jacket with its soft inside lining, the smell of new leather long gone after years of battling Parisian winters and London fog, now rough in patches where she'd skidded on hard ice and ancient cobblestones. 

In the periphery of her vision, she could see eyes widening as Clarke's soft, navy cotton tee slid upwards a little exposing a semi-tanned midriff and the shine of a belly button ring.

"I'm Clarke," Clarke said as she smiled across the table to the other woman who had pretended to be perusing her notes that were in neat rows on her side of the table. Clarke grinned. Madam OCD was going to hate her chaos.

The woman nodded.

"Lexa," was the quiet response before eyes framed by thick, dark lashes skittered away to look back down at her laptop and the notes that lay in piles around her.

Clarke relaxed into her seat and sighed as the premium cabin's furnishings pulled her into a warm embrace. She groaned softly.

"God!" she smiled and then arched her back, "this is unbelievable after the plane." 

"Oh?" Lexa apparently didn't want to encourage conversations, but this didn't stop Clarke in the slightest. They both lurched a little when the train began to pull out of the terminus.

"Eight-hour flight from London turned into a thirty-hour nightmare. I had to stop-over at Frankfurt, and our flight got delayed because of snow and ice."

"Oh. That can't have been pleasant," Lexa says with almost no emotion, and Clarke can visibly see how Lexa flinches slightly. It's evident that Lexa knows she sounds standoffish. 

"Yeah," Clarke smiles across at Lexa before pulling out a small book and, her favorite Emily Strange pencil case. "You could say that."

Lexa shuffles more papers into neat piles distractedly. 

"Hey, I can see you're busy," Clarke says as she tries to tilt her head to look at Lexa's notes. "Ugh. Lawyer stuff."

******** ******* ********

Lexa laughed. It's a soft sound that startles her as she's become so unaccustomed to the feeling since Costia left. She watches the interest in the other woman's eyes. How the blue sharpens, and the soft lines that are just beginning to appear around her eyes tighten as looks at her.

"Wow. You know you have a gorgeous smile. And your laugh is," Clarke shakes her head at Lexa in wonder, "a revelation."

Lexa's eyes widen, and she lets out a low, soft exhalation. She can't quite figure out how to respond to this.

"Oh, don't mind me," Clarke stares with a soft smile, "my mother says I have no filter. My ex-boyfriend always says -" Clarke breaks off whatever she was going to say as her brow crinkled into a cute little furrow.

"Thank you," Lexa finally says as she tries to get her head around this ball of energy.

The smile she receives from Clarke is radiant, and she feels the sudden stuttering in her heart, and her breath catches. She's quick to hide it, but there's a responding look from Clarke that tells her she's not quite fast enough at hiding her response.

"You go ahead with whatever you're doing. It looks riveting by the way," Clarke winks mischievously, and Lexa blushes as she looks down at the briefing notes she's received from Titus just before she left. 

She should ignore them. She really should as she needs this time out to figure out what's going on with her head and body. There is the heat that consumes her arms and legs before she feels like she's going to pass out. Her brain goes a million miles an hour telling her she's about to have a heart attack or that she's dying from some bizarre disease that a doctor will never discover as she's too scared to go and have it checked out.

Lexa closes her eyes as she tries to shut out the blocks of text that waver before her eyes. And sighs. She really should ignore them, but it's not in her nature to which is what Titus is counting on. She shuffles the notes, scribbling with a steady hand slashing across the paper with furious red markings in the margins. Her laptop lies next to her phone, and they're perfectly squared off as she opens it up and begins typing out her notes.

She tries not to watch what Clarke is doing as she sets up her side of the table. Lexa can hear the clunk of heavy boots being toed off and watches with interest as Clarke moans again. 

She's lifted her feet and is wiggling her toes as she stretches which Lexa can see reflected in the large windows beside their table. A headset and phone emerge from the little satchel bag, and Clarke appears set for the duration of the journey. 

Lexa's eyes flick back towards the windows watching the streets of Washington flash by as the train picks up speed as it leaves the metropolitan rail system and enters the intercity track.

It's late. The sun will be gone in an hour or so and the light being cast across city buildings is a glorious golden color. Lexa thinks that is probably her favorite time of day as she leans back to look at the view. She can hear Clarke whisper in the background.

"Beautiful."

When Lexa turns to look at Clarke, she notices that Clarke isn't looking at the view outside. Lexa can feel the heat rise in her cheeks.

"Are you always this forward?" Lexa asks and its a little brittle and direct. 

She is known for her acerbic tongue and a fastidious mind that can break down all the issues for a corporate takedown. She's known to take the wind out of the sails of opposing counsel when she points out glaring holes in their arguments. 

She's not used to compliments or a young woman looking at her like she's a scoop of ice-cream on a hot summer's day.

"I am confident about my ability to assess the aesthetics of my environment. If that means I'm forward, then yes. I am." 

Clarke's smile is steady. And there's a kindness in her eyes. 

Lexa doesn't know what to make of it, so she merely huffs and turns back to her laptop. She ignores the soft laugh and continues to pound away at her keyboard until a reasonable hour has passed and the words are beginning to blur. 

She needs her glasses. 

Sighing she leans forward and removes it from its squared-off position next to her notes on the Ark takeover which she has yet to look at. She isn't really aware of her environment as she slides the glasses onto her nose.

She hears Clarke's soft gasp but doesn't think anything of it until she looks up and sees two earnest blue eyes looking at her.

Her brows furrow and she looks at Clarke with a little irritation.

"What is it?" she says, and Lexa knows she sounds abrupt. She can't afford any distractions. At least she can get some work done on the train before she's hit by her family.

Maybe it's time to eat before her blood sugar levels drop too low and she starts yelling at Clarke for no reason whatsoever. Like the intern last week whom she'd torn strips off because he'd forgotten to photocopy Titus' briefing notes. She hadn't known his father had died earlier that month. 

Her lips tightened at the memory. She had to be better. She must be better.

"Your glasses make you look - tangible."

"Tangible?" Lexa is confused. 

"Your kind of looks, Lexa, make you appear a little otherworldly. The glasses make me want to take them off you and - " Clarke never finishes her sentence as there is a sudden rapping on the door.

"Gold Class service," a voice says from the other side of the cabin door.

"Ooh, great. The food is here," Clarke says, and her voice is tight with excitement.

What food? Lexa looks on in confusion and wonders what the hell is going on. Is Clarke psychic and knows the edges of Lexa's boundaries for reasonable behavior before hunger gets to her?

She watches in growing befuddlement as a young man wheels in a food trolley that appears to be laden with a variety of dishes. She feels her stomach clench and growl as the aromas hit her senses.

Lexa quickly removes her things from the table between them so that Clarke has enough room to eat her evening meal. Lexa bites her lips wishing she'd paid more attention to the time as she's now inhaling the aromas hoping that it will help tide her over till she organizes her own dinner.

"I took the liberty to get some dishes for you. I hope that's ok. I got vegetarian and non-vegetarian options just in case."

Clarke grins at her before lifting up the lids to the dishes that have been placed on the table.

The young man is grinning politely, and Lexa lunges for her purse to tip him before Clarke can. He smiles cockily, eyes drifting towards Clarke before leaving them to their evening repast. 

Lexa's mouth begins to water when she sees the array of dishes that Clarke has ordered from the Gold Class service. 

She watches as Clarke reaches over for a bottle of white wine that's chilling in an ice bucket by their table and pours them both a glass. 

She looks up shyly at Clarke who hands over some cutlery and napkins and her glass of wine.

"Thank you, Clarke. That was very thoughtful of you," Lexa says quietly as she places the napkin across her lap. "Especially when I'm so grumpy."

Clarke's laugh is sweet, and it makes Lexa's lips twitch in response.

"You were stabbing your notes. I wondered if maybe you needed something to eat before you took that red pen to me."

Lexa stared across at Clarke as she delicately spooned bits and pieces of the different dishes onto her plate.

"I'm sorry. I should be more aware. I know I get a terrible temper when my blood sugar drops," Lexa says softly before continuing, "and what do my glasses make you want to do?"

She's not forgotten Clarke's comment before they were interrupted by the food service.

Clarke blushes and quickly takes a bite taking her time chewing before she responds.

"Your features make you look like you should be the Faery Queen or something. The glasses make you look human but only in a way where I just want to take them off and draw your faces for hours. With or without the glasses to be honest. The glasses make you look like the hot lawyer who's going to crucify you in court, and you end up kissing their patent leather shoes to say thank you for being the reason you end up in jail for the next twenty years."

Lexa opens and closes her mouth. It's impossibly rare for her to be left speechless, but Clarke has done it with incredible aplomb.

"I - I. Thank you?"

Clarke's smile twists a little, and she shakes her head at Lexa.

"Don't thank me. Just eat."  
**** ****** *****  
Lexa's eyes feel like she's dragged them across broken glass. She blinks a few times before giving up on the notes Titus had emailed her during dinner and decides it's time for her evening relaxation technique. 

It's the only thing so far that she's been able to use to successfully keep her panic attacks under control. The steady voice and storylines a pleasant distraction that helps regulate her breathing.

She looks over at Clarke who has taken up her charcoals and is immersed in whatever drawing she's working on. 

The silence is comfortable and Lexa breathes out a sigh of relief. She's full and the wine has settled some of her anxiety so she's not as waspish as she could be.

She's glad because she's starting to like the crazy girl she's sharing the cabin with. 

Lexa pulls her phone towards her and finds one of the new stories she's download from her favorite fanfiction sites. She can use her e-reader app to read out loud to her and give her eyes a rest. 

She delicately tries to insert her new in earbud headphones. It's tight. She is yet to find one that fits what apparently are abnormally small ear canals. 

She rails against genetics for a second before giving up and leaving them not entirely in her ears as she sets her reading app to read out loud to her. 

She can hear it, but it's a little distant, so she turns up the volume a little before leaning back against her seat and closing her eyes.

The story is good and gets straight into a storyline she's not encountered before. The two female leads Eliza and Alycia have been cast into a noncanon post-apocalyptic world. 

Eliza, the lead detective on the show, has been re-cast into the role of a young woman who's crashed to the Earth years after bombs have torn it apart. She thinks she's the only human on Earth until she's captured by the leader of the people who survived the holocaust.

The leader is Alycia, the head prosecutor. Except in this story, she's not Alycia Woods but The Commandant, a ruthless young leader who is willing to do whatever it takes to protect her people. 

Lexa smiles at how quickly they get into the action, and within minutes she's hooked on the storyline. She's so riveted she doesn't see Clarke turn towards her and watch with curiosity as the smile completely relaxes her face. 

She doesn't see Clarke turn the page over of her notebook and quickly start sketching outlines of Lexa's face in repose.

Lexa still can't quite hear and shifts to see if she can gett a better sound from her phone. 

She inadvertently pulls loose the cable of her headset as she fumbles around with the sound which seems to have gotten worse. Lexa cranks it up the until it's at full volume. It's better than it was but the audio is still muffled. She's going to have to contact the online shop she got the set from and see if she can try and swap it to a different brand.

Clarke's eyes widen when the audio on Lexa's phone begins to fill the cabin. The sound is loud, and she can pick up what appears to be a story being read out loud. 

It's relaxing so she doesn't tell Lexa as they've found a comfortable groove. Plus she doesn't want to disturb her as she's resting on the chair and she looks like Botticelli's Venus as her reddish brown curls tumble all around her angelic face. 

Clarke is mostly concentrating on the sweep of her lines as she outlines Lexa's face in the visual diary she carts everywhere. Her mind is immersed in the feel of her charcoal as it moves across the paper when she starts to pay attention to what's been read out loud on Lexa's phone.

_"The Commandant sat high up on her throne and watched with interest as the young, blonde Sky girl was brought before her in chains. She noticed the rise and fall of her breasts which were outlined by the tight top that hugged her form._

_The Commandant felt the dryness rise up in her throat and she swallowed hard before repressing those thoughts. She stared as the young woman was thrown to her knees just before the Commandant's throne."_

Clarke blinked. And looked over quickly to Lexa who now had a very relaxed smile on her face. 

Clarke grinned. Well, this could be interesting. She continued to draw as the story developed and within a few chapters the two women's relationship really began to escalate.

_"Eliza -" the Commandant's voice was barely a whisper, and Lana almost swooned at how throaty her voice had become._  
"Commandant, we can't. Your people -"  
"Let me worry about my people, Eliza. I want more for us than just survival." 

_The Commandant's voice had become even lower until it was almost a soft growl against Eliza's ear. She felt her insides clench hard and an ache that started to build up inside of her._

Clarke shifted as the words started to have an impact on her own imagination. She squirmed in her seat feeling the heaviness between her own legs begin to form. She snuck another look at Lexa and almost swallowed her tongue when she saw two green eyes staring at her.

Shit! Did she know? Clarke was pretty sure that Lexa had no idea that the sound from her phone was filling their little room. She smiled and watched as Lexa responded with a quiet smile of her own before lazy eyes shut again and the story continued.

_"Fuck! Commandant. Please no -" Eliza struggled against two strong arms that were like steel as they pinned her against the door of the Commandant's bedroom._

_"What are you doing in my rooms, Eliza," Alycia snarls and Eliza twists against her and inadvertently pushed her leg between the Commandant's and brushed against her center. She groans when she sees how quickly the Commandant reacts, her head flinching backward and a soft hiss escaping her lips._

Clarke bites her lip. She can feel a pool of warm wetness begin to form between her legs as the very x-rated story continues to be read aloud. 

Clarke knows what this is. It's fan fiction which she enjoys on the odd occasion. She's read a lot of Supercorp, so she knows the platform although she's not familiar with this show. But it doesn't matter. The erotica is still hot. 

Her whole body stills when Lexa lets out a soft little moan. It's very quiet. More like a soft exhalation coupled with Lexa's gorgeous voice. And Lexa. Lexa is so uptight the idea that she listens to erotica is simply mind-blowing.

How the fuck is she going to sleep tonight? She moves again and tries to find a more comfortable position. She's not even pretending to draw anymore.

Lexa loves the story she's downloaded. Usually, she isn't a big fan of sci fi, but this story is so good she's willing to continue to listen. 

She can hear Clarke moving so she opens her eyes and stares across at the girl and is a little startled to see that Clarke is looking a little wide-eyed and she's biting her lips. Gorgeous lips that are now a deep red. 

Lexa wonders what it would be like to be the one that takes that lush lip into her own mouth to suck and bite and lick. She blinks furiously before shaking her head and shutting her eyes very quickly. 

She needs to relax. Just listen to the story. Don't think about Clarke. Don't think about the beautiful girl who she's sharing this sleeper cabin with overnight.

_"Take off your clothes. I want to see you in the moonlight."  
Eliza groans and stares up into deep gray eyes. She can feel like she's losing her breath as the Commandant stares at her, eyes slowly moving up her body taking all of Eliza's details in._

_Fuck. If the Commandant's people find out she's been sleeping with her prisoner what will they do to her?_

_She slowly slides off her jacket which drops to the floor behind her._

_Eliza watches as the Commandant's throat visibly moves when she swallows. She bends and slowly unbuckles her boots before sliding them off her feet. Eliza hears the quiet gasp when she removes her top and the bra beneath it. Then strong hands are on her skin, pushing her pants down and Eliza finds herself utterly naked before this woman of the forgotten tribes._

Lexa squirms a little and tries not to moan. It's probably not the safest thing doing something like this when someone is in the same room and so close to her. Thank God for headphones.

She sneaks a look at Clarke and almost jumps upright. The girl has gone a bright red, and she's wriggling on her seat. Lexa looks at her phone. She can't possibly hear this can she? She looks at Clarke again, and the way Clarke's eyes widen like she's a deer in the headlights fills Lexa's stomach with dread. No. 

_The Commandant pushed Eliza to her bed before slowly removing her own clothes. She feels a burst of desire when she sees how Eliza's eyes darken._

God, fuck, fucking fuck fuck, no! Lexa's head jerks and she frantically tries to remove the headphones from her ears. Please let there be silence. Please let there be silence she quietly implores.

_Fingers slide deep into her prisoner who's legs are now wide open, and she's ready, so ready for the Commandant who's -_

Lexa almost screams when she hears the sound of the text being read aloud in the room. 

No! Her eyes race over to see what Clarke's doing. Clarke is biting her fucking bottom lip again. Lexa tries to turn her phone on so that she can turn off the reader, but the thumbprint won't recognize her as she keeps using her index finger. Fuck! She jabs at it again frantically.

_"Please Commandant! Fill me. Fuck me. I want you to take me into your mouth -"_

Holy fucking shit! Come on, come on! Lexa's jabbing at all the controls on her phone which continues to spit out the most pornographic parts of the story into the room. Clarke is just staring at her as if she's got two heads.

_"I need you to come for me, Sky girl." The Commandants voice is rough, and she wants to fuck Eliza so hard..._

Jesus Christ. Will this not end? 

By now Lexa is completely sitting upright in her chair, and she's finally managed to open up her phone using her thumbprint. With one final swipe, she eventually turns the reader app off.

She's breathing hard and the silence is awful in the room. She can't do it. She won't do it. She can't look at Clarke. She hears a soft sound. It sounds awfully like a snort. And then the sound of someone clapping their hand over their mouth.

Slowly she looks up. Clarke has completely covered her mouth with her hand and is panting hard into it as she tries not to laugh. Her shoulders are shaking.

Lexa feels something inside her break apart.

Its a tiny giggle at first that fights its way up from her abdomen and she hiccoughs. 

Blue eyes stare into her own, and she can't breathe. The laughter erupts from her throat and suddenly she's laughing, and she can feel the tears pushing out of her tear ducts and sliding down her face. She can hear Clarke's laughter tearing into the room.

"Oh my God, Lexa! Your face. Jesus Christ." Clarke is almost hyperventilating as she tries to speak through her laughter-induced tears.

"Clarke. Fuck. I am so sorry," Lexa says when she can as she's struggling to control the pain her laughter is causing her mouth and her stomach.

"Your hand - " Clarke is howling as she parodies Lexa trying to stop the phone from reading out loud the text. They both throw back their heads guffawing.

And it takes several minutes before they can calm down. Lexa feels an indescribable release, and her body feels so much lighter than it has in a very long. Eventually, she's able to look across at her roommate for the night, and she smiles.

"I am so sorry, Clarke."

"Please Lexa, don't be. That is possibly the best thing that's happened to me in a long, long time."

Clarke's grin is infectious and Lexa can't help but return the smile.

"Is it bad that I want to know what happens in the end?" Clarke says, and Lexa chokes.

"Yes! I mean yes it's bad, and no! You can't listen to anymore. I'll be really aware."

Clarke shrugs.

"Well, it's nice to know you like women too," Clarke replies.

Lexa stills as she remembers the comment about the ex boyfriend.

"Too?" she finally says and tilts her head at Clarke.

"My ex-boyfriend was a bit of a tool. We broke up because he had such a hang-up about my ex-girlfriend. Well, that and many other things."

Clarke's smile is sweet, and Lexa finds herself relaxing even more in the other girl's presence. She also notes the little British colloquialism and wonders at Clarke's background.

She's also aware of the soft looks that Clarke gives her whenever she's not looking. It's been a long time since Costia, and the only thing that's kept her satisfied are the books she downloads about her favorite characters and well - she doesn't let her mind dwell on _that_ as she watches Clarke pack away her things. 

She tries not to stare when Clarke bends down to pick up some charcoals that have slipped under the table, and her eyes don't linger too long on the graceful curves of Clarke's muscled legs and tight backside. 

She tries not to sneak a second look, but Clarke seems to be taking an indordinate amount of time grabbing her charcoals. Her eyes move to the window, and she can barely see the landscape outside as it rushes past in the dark. She can see though, two very amused blue eyes staring back at her reflected in the window.

Well, damn. Lexa blushes when she realizes that Clarke has observed the unmitigated attention to her bottom. Clarke straightens up and puts her chalks and charcoals away with her notebook.

She quirks a single eyebrow at Lexa who feels the rush of heat creep up her throat and into her face.

"Now who's being forward?" Clarke says softly. Her voice is teasing, but it makes something clench hard in Lexa.

She tries to be bold, but her insides are hammering hard as she steps forward keeping a steady gaze on Clarke's blue eyes.

"I am confident about my ability to assess the aesthetics of my environment. If that means I'm forward, then yes. I am." 

She folds her arms across her breasts and tilts her chin upwards, a wry smile flits across her face.

Clarke's smile is huge as Lexa repeats back her own words to her. She laughs slowly and then shakes her head.

"I think you're going to be the death of me, Ms hot lawyer. And on that note, I'm going to have a shower and head to bed. I'll help you bring the beds out now though."

They move the beds down from the walls. They're already made up and immediately look cozy. Lexa shoos Clarke away as she finds the pillows and finishes making them. By the time Clarke emerges from the shower, steam billowing behind her, Lexa has both beds set up and ready for the night.

"I prefer the top," Clarke smirks, and Lexa rolls her eyes before throwing a pillow at her as she goes to have her own shower. She's nervous about it and leaves the door half open as she's terrified she's going to end up locked in, trapped by steam and never able to get out again.

Clarke exhales a long, slow and very soft sigh as she watches Lexa go to the shower. She's still aching and would like to scream at the way the heat pounds between her legs. 

"Wow, what the hell was that?" she whispers and moves back into the comfort of the blankets and bed. She remembers the words of Lexa's story and squirms a little, her mind conjuring up an image of the Commandant moving the young woman so that she's between her legs.

Clarke groans to herself. This is ridiculous, but the accidental arousal is killing her, and she wants to slide her fingers between her legs, and she wants to come. Does she have time before Lexa finishes her shower? 

Her eyes dart to the corner of the room as she hears Lexa opening the doors to enter the shower. She's got at least five minutes before she's out of the shower and dressed.

Clarke groans and begins to touch herself as she imagines a pair of dark, green eyes staring into her own before fingers move through her slick wetness. Fuck. 

Clarke moans as she begins to touch herself there which is already so slick from listening to Lexa's crazy hot story. She imagines a beautiful full mouth, lips pressing against her own forcing her mouth open until she has to take whatever the Commandant wants her to take. 

Clarke feels the ache between her legs become heavy and she slides two fingers inside of herself. In the background, she can hear the constant sound of the shower as it cascaded across Lexa's body. God. 

What does that look like? Clarke's tongue slides over her lips as she imagines falling to her knees and taking Lexa into her mouth.  
Christ.

The sudden silence in the room makes her whole body jerk when she realizes that Lexa has finished her shower. Clarke tries not to stare. She really does but when the door opens, and Lexa steps out in a loose t-shirt and very short, shorts - it takes everything inside of her to stop herself from pulling Lexa into her bed.

She won't though because she remembers Bellamy and how heady it was at the beginning. She won't because she remembers how awful it was at the end. His restrained anger. The once sudden slap across her face, both of them shocked at the violence of it. Bellamy. She'd thought he'd be the one, but he wasn't. He just didn't know how not to hurt her. 

She can't think of this. Not right now. The girl before her, Lexa, is ridiculously beautiful but it is so obvious she's got baggage. And Clarke is so sick of baggage. Of having to fix things.

She looks up, and two unbearably deep green gorgeous eyes look at her up in the top bunk.

"Enjoying being on top?" Lexa teases, and her mouth is beautiful. Clarke has to pinch herself to stop her from pulling Lexa into a deep kiss.

"Of course," she says flippantly, "is there any other position?"

She groans out loud when she hears Lexa's response.

"I don't know. I've heard power bottom is pretty good."


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa have dreams on the overnight train. Their journey ends and they find it hard to say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter. I wasn't sure where this was going and then ended up writing some more.  
> I hope you enjoy it

Clarke's dreams are tortured and hot with the sound of a honeyed voice reverberating all around her. She sees green eyes and feels the softest of fingertips tracing the arc of each of her ribs. Lips trace the edges of her body and slide over the contours of legs as hips arch up to meet flesh, and she moans when she can't feel anything but air. 

She sighs and turns over as her hand continues to clutch the space between her legs as she continues to dream. She's awakened later as a soft moan breaks through the barrier of her sleep.

"Clarke," Lexa's voice is the gentlest of murmurs and the way she repeats it tells Clarke that she's not the only one who's been influenced by the story Lexa's phone would not stop reading aloud. 

Clarke smiles and wonders what sort of dreams Lexa's having. She stretches and wishes away the ache between her legs. 

The sound of the train moving over the tracks is perfect for inducing sleep. It's a steady rhythmic pattern, and the carriage hums gently all around her, and within minutes she's lulled back to a state of semi-dreaming. Clarke is vaguely aware of Lexa's soft breathing beneath her own bed.

What feels like minutes later Clarke can feel the light buzzing of her watch against her skin slowly drawing her from her fitful slumber. Her eyes feel tired and a bit scratchy so she opens them slowly to see the bathroom door slightly ajar. She's noticed that Lexa never closes it and she wonders why. 

She's kept her eyes averted although you can't really see in unless you get right into the room as it's a brilliant feat of design to get the shower and toilet all into the one space, clever closets and tiny nooks for the bin.

Clarke almost gasps when she sees Lexa emerge dressed in dark jeans, a pair of ridiculously elegant, low-heeled boots and a light chambray shirt. Her hair is still damp, and she's pulled it back into a high, messy bun where tangled curls cascade around a face devoid of makeup. She is stunning, and Clarke lets out a quiet little whimper. It's not fair. No-one should look that good in the morning.

"Hey, sleepy head." Lexa smiles softly at Clarke, her green eyes sparkle but there's a hint of tiredness around them. 

Good, Clarke thinks. She's glad that she wasn't the only one who was tormented before falling asleep and throughout the night.

"Hey," Clarke croaks, "coffee?"

Lexa laughs, and it's a sweet sound that Clarke wants to hear again. 

"Fortunately for you madam, I ordered a pot. How do you have it?" 

Clarke wonders if she's still dreaming. Not only does she not have to leave her lovely cacoon of warmth yet but the goddess from below is going to bring coffee to her bed.

"Milk - low fat. Two sugars. Demerara if they have it."

Lexa's eyes widen, and she raises an elegant dark brow at Clarke's supine form.

"Seriously?"

"No, but I thought I'd see how you handled pressure."

Lexa rolled her eyes and shook her head before moving to the table at the window where a pot of coffee sat, soft coils of steam drifting upwards hitting Clarke's senses at the same time with the lush scent of a dark roast. 

"Here's your coffee with full fat milk, and two brown sugars. I hope your majesty is satisfied?" Lexa said as she bowed to Clarke before presenting her with the coffee.

Clarke sat up and fluffed her pillows before leaning down to take the cup from Lexa's outstretched hand. She tilted her chin before looking down an elegant nose.

"Her majesty finds your services sufficient, and you are pretty enough to make your tardiness a forgivable offense," Clarke teased.

"Ok, give it back then." Lexa's glare is mocking, and Clarke snatches the cup out of her reach and takes a big gulp which she almost spits out as there's not enough milk which makes the coffee burn the hell out of her mouth.

"Shit, Clarke. It's hot!" Lexa says quickly.

"Oh my God! What are you trying to do? Kill my sexual skills?" Clarke's face has gone a bright red, and Lexa cannot help but laugh at the crazy woman who she's shared the cabin with. 

"I'm sure your tongue will survive instant karma for your rudeness." 

Lexa's look is a lot softer than the cranky woman Clarke had encounterd the evening before. She reaches out and pushes one of Lexa's errant curls that has stuck to the side of her forehead behind her ear.

"Thank you, Lexa. You have no idea what this first cup of coffee means to me," Clarke's tone is a little on the dramatic side, but she's serious about how much coffee does mean to her. Especially good coffee which she knows her home country is not exactly famous for. Not unless you're in one of the major capitals and almost never on a fast-moving train.

Lexa's eyes are on a level with the top of Clarke's bunk bed so Clarke can see her reaction to everything. Her green eyes are stunning in the morning light, and Clarke just wants to hold her there so she can get the color precisely the way it is now as she's looking up at Clarke with a smile in them.

"I think I have a small notion as to how you're feeling right now, Clarke." 

Lexa's voice is low and intense, a dark brow lifts insinuatingly. Clarke's eyes widen comically at the double meaning behind the woman's words.

"Oh. _Oh!_ " Clarke can feel the rush of blood creep up her neck and across her face. She's embarrassed by her spluttering, but Ms. Uptight Lawyer just smacked one out of the ballpark with that comment. She takes another slower sip of coffee.

"I've ordered breakfast for us both. I hope that's ok? It should be here in about five minutes," Lexa says as she walks back to their table, her hips and butt are beautifully accentuated in the dark jeans she's been poured into. The jeans look expensive despite the elegantly placed rips around the knees. Clarke watches how she moves around the room with an innate grace that makes her breath catch.

She realizes she's not going to have enough time to change if she doesn't get out of bed soon, so Clarke quickly places her mug on the shelf nearby and clambers down the short ladder before landing softly on bare feet. 

She can feel the heavy thrum of several tons of machinery beneath her. It's comforting, and she grabs the cup again quickly drinking as she walks towards the bathroom to get changed. She leaves it on her side of the table before heading into change. 

The bathroom is still a little steamed over from Lexa who's apparently had another shower. She can hear the clatter of the food cart as she slowly pulls on her favorite shirt, the blue brings out the color of her eyes and the soft silk tank flows across her body and contrasts nicely with her favorite blue jeans which are now so soft and faded. 

She pulls on her biker boots and walks back out to see Lexa quietly setting the table for them including pouring another cup of coffee for Clarke. Her head lifts up at Clarke's entry and those green eyes seem to darken for a moment.

Clarke looks at her, and she feels such affection for the uptight lawyer with her talking phone. She grins at that before sliding into her seat on the other side of the table. The table has a sampler of yogurts and muesli, sliced fruits and other healthy options which Clarke semi turns up her nose. But there's also a chafer dish of poached eggs, pancakes, bacon and English pork sausages. Her eyes almost roll back at those.

"Oh my God. You are a demi-Goddess. This looks amazing," Clarke moans in ecstasy as she begins to put various things on her plate. 

"Only a demi-Goddess?" Lexa sighs, "oh, how the mighty have fallen."

Clarke smiles at her and watches how Lexa fastidiously scoops two spoonfuls of the mango yogurt, one of strawberry and boysenberry, and then a half spoon of the bircher muesli which she then daintily swirls. 

Her eyes are focused on her actions, but Clarke can tell she's aware of Clarke's gaze. Lexa then moves to a dish of freshly cut fruit which she then distributes equally across her bowl of yogurt before leaning back with a satisfied glint in her, and finally looking up to see Clarke's amused blue eyes staring at her. 

"Your food is going to get cold," Lexa observes pragmatically.

Clarke grins as she lathers her toast with butter before putting a poached egg, bacon, and sausage onto it. She pours a generous amount of ketchup and barbecue sauce combined on the mixture before slicing it and placing it elegantly into her mouth.

"That looks," Lexa's brow furrows and it's obvious to Clarke she's trying to find the right word before she finishes with, "intriguing."

"I got hooked on HP sauce since living in England. This is the closest I can get to it."

"Oh. You live in England?" Lexa's eyes widen a little as she looks at the small dot of sauce on the side of Clarke's mouth. Before she can say anything, Clarke dabs delicately at it and continues cutting up all of her meal before eating each piece one by one.

"Almost eight years. I studied in France before that for a year. I -" Clarke's blue eyes darken for a moment, "this is the first time I've been back since I left school."

Lexa could assume that Clarke is not close to her family with that amount of time and distance, but she's not one to judge as she's seen her new family home only a few times. They've been living there for almost four years now. 

Her family had visited her in Washington more than she's gone to visit them, but she just got too busy. And Costia wasn't a big fan of coastal trips. Or family for that matter. Or maybe just her family. 

"Have you seen your family at all since you left?" Lexa asked quietly not wishing to be too intrusive as Clarke's face had fallen a little.

"Yes, I saw my dad a lot. He lives in France. He does a lot of work with the UN - engineering. Bridges and things for countries that need them." 

He builds bridges that pass over the impassable connecting communities that had been separated by turbulent rivers and deep ravines and centuries. He just can't seem to create one between himself and Clarke's mother. Apparently, it is the only possibility he finds impossible, Clarke muses bitterly. And for years she'd always blamed her mother. It had been Jake who couldn't see the stars in Abby's eyes anymore.

Clarke was staring hard at her coffee now as she added more milk and the brown sugar packets from the serving tray. 

"My mother has been over for a few of my bigger exhibitions."

Lexa does her best to restrain herself from gawking. She'd seen a little of Clarke's sketches and had known she was more than good. The drawings were dark and beautiful, but it had been hard to guess how good from seeing them upside-down.

"You're an actual artist?" Lexa says and wants to slap herself for how inane she sounds. "I'm sorry. That sounds so -"

Clarke laughs, and it's a delightful little growl of sound.

"Don't be. Just because someone sketches - it doesn't automatically make them an artist," Clarke replied, and her voice is lovely, and Lexa watches how her lips move as she speaks. She's got a few quirky little words that she says, and there's just the tiniest hint of a British accent behind it all. Lexa stares at her and tries not to lick her lips.

"Ok. I'm impressed," Lexa's mouth quirks upwards to the side, and she notices how Clarke's eyes dart to her lips, "I've never met a real artist before."

Clarke shrugs and looks at her mischievously.

"That's ok. I've never met a lawyer with a pornographic phone before. It's an excellent skill I have to say." Clarke ducked as Lexa threw a blueberry at her. 

***

Her smile is so full and happy Lexa feels her breath catch for a moment. Clarke is beautiful and apparently someone who hides her light under a bushel. 

Lexa blushes when she thinks about the evening before and how it affected her dreams. 

God, those dreams of Clarke on her knees before her in nothing but a simple white tunic and leggings, her face smudged with dirt and her hair hanging loosely around her face. Her hands bound. Lexa closed her eyes for a moment as her stomach clenched hard at the memory.

"So, where are you getting off?" Clarke asked breaking through her thoughts.

Lexa's eyes widened and her eyebrows lifted in surprise. 

"What?"

"Disembarking, I mean," Clarke's mouth tilted at the edges as she saw where Lexa's mind went. Lexa could feel the blush sweep across her cheeks, and she looked down quickly at her yogurt and muesli.

"Arcadia," she replied softly. "It's been a while for me too. My parents moved there about four years ago. They wanted to do the whole sea change thing."

"No way," Clarke's smile was huge, "I'm going to Arcadia too."

Lexa could feel her jaw drop a little. Well shit. That was more than she was bargaining for. She'd expected to have to part ways on the train. 

She felt a little flutter of something going off in her chest. She's noticed the ever-present band of pain has lessened since Clarke and she laughed their way out of one of the most ignominious moments of her life. She smiles softly at the thought.

"Are you alright?" Clarke's voice is gentle, and Lexa looks up at her and sees two deep blue eyes looking at her with concern. She realizes then that her hand has gone to her chest and she's pressing hard.

"Yes. I'm fine." Lexa shakes her head and leans back to look at Clarke, "that's great. Maybe I'll see you around. How long are you staying?"

"I don't know," Clarke shrugged, "my mom is getting married. I'm here for that."

Lexa stared at Clarke as she continued to eat. She had a unique style where she'd rotate her plate every so often before picking up the pieces she'd cut before delicately placing it in her mouth and chewing. 

Lexa was oblivious that her eyes had drifted back to Clarke's lips until those lips smiled.

"What? Have I got something on my lips?"

Green eyes looked back up into Clarke's guiltily, and she lied without thinking.

"A little something, but nothing to worry about."

Clarke smiled. 

Lexa knew without a doubt that she didn't believe a word she was saying.

***

The announcement for Arcadia as the next stop came over the carriage speakers, and both women began to pack the last of their things. Lexa slid the door open as they both made their way to the front of the train towards their exit. 

Clarke could feel the heaviness of the machinery as it slowly began to brake for the approaching platform which she could see in the distance. She felt a nervous swoop in her stomach and gripped her bag a little tighter.

"Is someone meeting you here?" Lexa said just over her shoulder.

"My mother's fiance."

Clarke wasn't sure how she felt about that, but she was used to her mother's emergency surgeries and her absences. She could have taken a taxi, but her mother had been insistent. Probably trying to force Clarke into getting to know him.

The train strained as it finally pulled into the station. Clarke felt the rush of return, and it hit her hard that she was finally here. Well, almost here. She waited patiently until the automatic doors slid open with a whoosh. The klaxon of warning and lights that flashed as the door finally opened.

She walked onto the platform moving her bags to the side to see if she could help Lexa with her monster bag and work briefcase but the woman had already alighted and was looking at her with a shy smile. 

They both walked along with a few other passengers, but both women were staring at everything from the cute old station with its white trimmed paint and the profusion of flowers that were in carefully tended garden beds and pots. It was gorgeous, and Clarke could smell the sea air already mixed in with the scents of the forest nearby.

"God, I'd forgotten what this place felt like," Clarke said softly her eyes closed as she breathed everything in.

"Mmm. It looks very- " Lexa didn't know how to proceed, "I've only come for quick weekends by car. I was in and out and didn't really leave the house."

Clarke turns to look at her and nods slowly taking in Lexa's eyes which are darting around with interest, but there's something beneath the gaze that tells Clarke something is troubling the woman. 

She feels a twist in her stomach as she realizes they're going to have to say goodbye soon. And she doesn't want to. But she can't start anything now. She's in the middle of massive changes, and she's not sure if she's ready. Yet.

"Hey, I hope your time with your family is good," Clarke says softly and likes how green eyes gaze into her own so softly with the same look of realization that this is goodbye.

"Thank you for being a good roommate, Clarke," Lexa's smile is self-deprecating, "I know I wasn't the best of company initially. I thank you for your patience."

Clarke grinned.

"It was a challenge. I was determined to get past that cranky exterior."

Lexa scowls playfully.

"I wasn't that bad," she growled.

"Well, you certainly got better once you um, relaxed." 

Clarke squealed and tried to leap out of the way as Lexa lunged for her to swat her on the butt. They both still and look at each other when Lexa's hand rests for a second longer than it should. Clarke can feel her throat dry instantly, and she wishes, God, she _wishes_ that they had more time.

***

Lexa stares into the bluest of eyes, the rim of the iris is a deep navy, and she just wants - more. 

She feels breathless but in a good way. Not the awful tight band around her chest that she's been carrying around for months. She exhales softly. 

Clarke is not staying. And Lexa has to get back to her life in the city. They can't start something here. They can't. 

She steps away and nods firmly before putting out her hand to shake.

"It was lovely to meet you, Clarke." 

She's using her courtroom voice, maybe not as loud but it's the same stentorian tone she uses when she wants to demolish a witness statement.

She sees the confusion in Clarke's eyes and maybe disappointment. 

And it's back with a vengeance. Lexa feels the band of pain circle around her chest again, and she slows her breathing down. She watches as Clarke reaches forward with her hand which clasps Lexa's just above her elbow.

"Yes," Clarke finally breathes out, and there seem to be a hundred unsaid things in her eyes, "I really enjoyed traveling with you."

Their conversation is crazy stilted, and it's all her fault with her stupid barriers. She becomes the woman that she first showed Clarke when she entered the cabin. Closed off and her emotions are well under guard again.

"Clarke!" 

They almost jump apart at the sound of a man's voice, and they both turn to watch as he approaches them. His face is open, bright, with warm eyes and tanned skin. His face has the look of an old sea captain, and Lexa thinks he'd fit in well further up the coast on the windswept shores of New England.

Lexa relaxes but stills when she sees how Clarke has stiffened and there is the strangest smile on her face. It only takes a moment before she realizes that it's not Clarke's smile, which is genuine, open and often eager. This smile is closed off and entirely at odds with the person she's come to know in such a short time.

"Marcus," Clarke says before stepping forward, and she flinches a little when he envelopes her in a warm hug. 

He leans back to look at her, his smile is huge on his face and its evident to Lexa that even if Clarke is not as happy to see him, he's delighted by her presence.

"Clarke. You look wonderful. Let me take your bags," he smiles and then turns to take Clarke's single piece of luggage not counting the satchel she's religiously guarding against her shoulder.

There is an awkward tension which is starting to make the band tighten around her chest. 

Lexa smiles at Clarke in the hope that it will lessen whatever it is that's troubling her. It seems to do the trick as the smile she knows returns and blue eyes blaze with something that looks like relief.

"Marcus, this is Lexa. We traveled down together."

Marcus grins, and it's clear to Lexa that he's feeling the tension despite his cheery disposition. He pumps her hand a bit too enthusiastically before looking around the station car park and then back to her.

"Hi Lexa. Can I give you a ride somewhere?"

Lexa immediately shakes her head, but before she can answer the high pitch sound of a police siren shatters the quiet of the station, blue lights flash across the sidewalk.

"Lexa Forest! Please step away from the curb and keep your hands in a visible position." 

It's a harsh voice, and she can hear the slamming of a car door behind her as she watches Clarke's and Marcus' eyes both widen in shock.

She was going to kill her. Rolling her eyes, she turned and watched as her adopted sister walked towards her. She growled under her breath as Anya swaggered towards her, hand reaching to the handcuffs at her belt, dark aviator glasses covering her eyes and her dark blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun. Just like moms. She was really, fucking, going to kill her.

"Lexa, are you ok?" 

She felt Clarke step behind her touching her arm. Lexa felt surprise move through her as Clarke stepped in front of her and braced her hands on her hips to stare challengingly at the woman she was going to quickly de-sister from her life very shortly.

"What's going on, officer?"

"This does not concern you, ma'am. Please step away from the -" Anya grins and raises a curious eyebrow at her sister before slowly enunciating, "idiot behind you. She's wanted in two states for neglecting her family." 

The grin on Anya's face breaks out, and she laughs at Lexa's furious glare. Clarke looks back at her in confusion. 

Lexa's brow comes together in a frown, but she can't hide the small laugh that escapes her lips, and she releases the handle of her bag that she's been pulling along behind her.

"Clarke, meet my jerk of a sister, Anya. She thinks she's a comedian. Many would beg to differ."

Clarke looks at them before letting out a small explosive burst of laughter that brings a smile to Lexa's lips.

"Looks like you've gone and got yourself a little protector, Lexie." 

Anya grins, and Lexa just wants to smack the knowing look on her sister's face.

"Don't call me that," she growls under her breath, but despite how soft her words are, Clarke overhears her and smiles widely. 

She tilts her head and looks at Lexa as if she wants to pinch her cheeks and say aww. Yes, when she gets home, Anya will die a slow and terrible death.

Lexa seems to remember the man who's been patiently waiting for Clarke behind them. She nods to Anya who grabs the luggage from her and takes it to the back of the Sherrif's car. Lexa sighs before she looks at Clarke and Marcus.

"It was nice to meet you, sir. Clarke, I hope you enjoy your visit and -" 

And fuck. I wish we had more time.

The siren whoops again, and Lexa rolls her eyes.

"Sorry, I have to go."

They smile, and there's a strange pain in her heart now. Without thinking, her fingertips graze Clarke's arm, and she can see Clarke holding her natural instinct in to just grab and hold her. 

"Take care, Clarke. And good luck with your art when you get back to London."

And with a quick turn she's gone, her footsteps soft across the pavement and the flash of blue from the damn police lights. 

She doesn't see the confused look Clarke gives her as she steps into the police car and drives away.

***

Clarke feels the weirdest sensation in her gut as she and Marcus travel in silence to her old family home. There's sporadic conversation, but he's picked up on her disquiet, and he's always been a sensitive man. 

Clarke wants to hate him but she can't. He truly is a good man, and he fits a lot better with her mother than her father Jake ever did. Jake with his dreams of sweeping bridges and canal systems and locks to help people in countries that have so much less. If he'd been born in a different time, he would have built cathedrals with spires that reached towards the heavens. 

She blinks hard as she's suddenly hit with his absence and the knowledge that her mother and he will never, ever get back together now. A lifelong dream since she was a kid. Foolish and unrealistic as the dreams of children often are. Well, some of their dreams at any rate. She'd managed to achieve one of them at least. 

Her eyes look at the gentle, green hills of her home. It's the hinterland between Polis and Arcadia, the two main towns that make up this gorgeous seaside location. Her old home sits on the crest of a hill that overlooks Polis far in the distance on the north side, and Arcadia just below where the ocean meets the rivers that bend through the valley. 

And it takes her breath away. 

Her eyes fill with tears, and her heart hammers hard against her chest as memories flood her. The feel of her skin breaking when she and Octavia decided to catamaran their skateboards down the steep drive of her parent's home crashing when they couldn't entirely take the bend in time. They'd spilled over the asphalt in a flurry of limbs and hysterical laughter. 

They'd been twelve, and there was nothing that summer that could stopper their adventures. 

Abby had just looked at them when they'd walked back up the driveway blood dripping from their knees and in Octavia's case from her chin where she'd scraped it. 

Abby had cleaned them up and told them never to do it again. They'd promised, both crossing their fingers behind their backs. Octavia, with her long blue-black hair, had looked like Jesus for weeks with the scrape on her chin, and Clarke had missed out on being a cheerleader that year as her scabs kept opening and bleeding over her knee highs during try-outs.

Clarke smiled and tried to blink away the tears. The place looked exactly the same. Greener. Or had she merely forgotten how green the grass at home had been? It's certainly not London with its ancient streets and history flowing out of every building, and the teeming crowds of tourists from all over the world converged into the one city. 

She snaps out of her daydreams and memories, unbuckles her seatbelt and follows Marcus into her family home. It's peculiar having to walk behind him as he opens the door she's unlocked countless times over the years.

It's stranger still to follow him inside as if he's letting her in as a guest. She's not entirely at ease with the idea of that but holds firmly to her good humor because this is the man her mother wants to marry. And she's determined to be ok with it. She owes her mother this much after years of being so much on her father's side.

"Your mom fixed up your old room so everything should be there for you," Marcus says as he opens up her old bedroom door. 

She is swept by a strong sense of deja vu, of returning to somewhere in the past and she's not that same girl anymore. The woman she's grown into seems so far removed from the dusty days goofing around with Octavia and sometimes Raven when Bellamy ditched her to play with the guys. 

"Thank you, Marcus. I think I've got it from here. Do you know when she'll be back?"

He's looking at her still as if he can't quite believe she's here. At least he shows more emotion than Abby probably will. Clarke sighs. She's got to stop doing that. Her mom will be fine. 

It's Clarke that needs to grow up and move on. Everybody else seems to have done so.

Plus, she needs to decide what to do with her life and being home will help. 

She's had it with being homesick. Homesick for her friends, and hot dogs and local burgers, Texas ribs and just the strange nuances of being home. She'd loved how the food in London was the sum of its colonizing past with the curries of Bethnal Green, or walking past the storefronts in Hackney and Archway with exotic gourds and vegetables that Clarke had never seen in her life. It was a fantastic world, but Clarke just missed home. 

She'd caught up with Octavia a few times when she'd been stationed for her first and second tours of Afghanistan. Clarke had been at the hospital when they'd transported Octavia to London after she and her squad had caught heavy artillery and mortar fire in Syria. 

Her heart had been in her mouth the whole time she'd waited while Octavia had been in surgery. She'd clung to Bellamy who'd been furious. Again. He'd been so angry that his little sister had decided to become a soldier and was now serving her country. 

She remembered the awful fight that he and Octavia had when she'd first woken up.

"Not long. In about an hour or so," Marcus smiled gently at her. She almost jumped a foot as she'd been so caught up in her thoughts. 

"Abby's left everything for you in your old cupboard. I have to get going but if you need to eat or drink she's left supplies for a battalion in the fridge. She's left you some Hershey's on the bottom shelf and some Reese's peanut butter cups -" 

Clarke's eyes dart upward. What? She didn't. Oh God bless that woman.

"Seriously Marcus, when were you going to tell me?" she almost growls and bounds back down the stairs. She can hear his deep laugh flowing behind her. 

"I'll see you tonight, Clarke. There's also a jug of iced coffee she's -"

"Found it!" Clarke yelled when she found all the goodies her mother had left for her evidently remembering the countless times she'd griped when they'd Skyped from not having decent peanut butter to the lack of hot sauce. 

Suddenly, it feels like she's never left and the tension that she's been holding in her body eases out as she pours herself an iced coffee and grabs some butterfingers before heading out the back door.

The yard looks out over several acres which blend with their next-door neighbors who's apple trees are spilling onto Abby's side of a non-existent fence. It's always been like this in Arcadia.

Clarke sighs as she sinks to her mother's porch swing seat. She tucks her feet up and reverently brings a Butterfinger up to her mouth before crunching onto it. She can feel her brain almost fizzle as the taste and smells take her back to a million summers ago sitting on this porch sharing a plate with her best friend.

"Clarke, you better not have started those without me!"

Clarke almost falls over when she hears that voice. She squeals. She can't believe it as she didn't think her voice could go up that high, but it does as she leaps up and runs over to Octavia who's climbing up the back porch stairs, one hand weighs heavily on the rail, and the other rests inside an elbow crutch.

"You have got to be kidding me," Clarke yells and waits for Octavia to make it to the top, watching her friend with tears glazing her eyes, "when did you get back to Arcadia. I thought you were still up in Boston?"

"I've been here a few days. Your mom and I wanted to surprise you," Octavia's smile is as bright and big as Clarke's.

Clarke stares at her best friend of twenty-four years. She's known Octavia since the first day they met in kindergarten when someone tried to steal Clarke's cut up carrots, and Octavia had punched them in the face for her. 

Clarke had stood up next to Octavia when the teacher had asked Octavia to read out See Spot Run and Octavia had started crying because she thought the teacher was making fun of her. Their teacher didn't know that Octavia had been reading the children's version of Homer's Odyssey with her brother for several weeks and that her reading age was well in advance of her peers. 

Theirs was a friendship that had been forged in fire, ice-cream, and tears. Neither of them had ever looked back.

She touched Octavia's face with tentative fingertips.

"God," she whispered and looked her up and down, "you're walking now."

There were lines around Octavia's eyes that hadn't been there before, but she still looked like Octavia with her mulish mouth that would shout out epithets at Clarke when she was racing around the softball pitch or whisper prayers for her when Clarke's parents split up. 

"How are you?" 

They both ask each other and laugh softly at one another.

"I'm ok. London started to hurt. I just - I needed to come home so when the invite came I thought, I thought ok - it's time."

They rested their foreheads against each other and sighed softly at the comfort of being around someone who knew when they'd take their next breath or finish a sentence. It was the most profound relationship of Clarke's life beyond her two very dysfunctional parents.

Clarke tugged on a strand of shiny black hair.

"Come sit."

They moved slowly over to the porch swing, and Clarke made sure the seat was stable before allowing Octavia to drop into it.

"Well shit, Clarke. You started without me. I can't believe it."

Clarke smiled and rolled her eyes at the woman before her. She traced fingertips along her arm. She kept it to a minimum as she knew Octavia wasn't one for displays of affection or touching. It was only the years between them that allowed Clarke such intimacy.

"How is he?" Clarke finally asked.

She watched as Octavia's eyes darkened before rolling in contempt.

"I have no fucking idea. I haven't seen him since the hospital in London."

"What?" 

Clarke was shocked. That was more than a year ago and just before she'd had the blazing row with him about Nylah. Just before everything went to shit.

"Look, Clarke, he's just - he's just Bellamy. I'm sorry. I wanted to say something when you told me that you'd started seeing him. I did. And I'm sorry I didn't. Fuck! I'm sorry, ok?"

Clarke watched as Octavia's eyes became glassy with unshed tears.

"What are you talking about?" Clarke asked, and her body stilled as she waited for an answer.

Octavia bent forward and reached out for the peanut butter decadence before crunching it softly between her teeth as she tried to figure out what to say.

"Why did you break up?" Octavia asked looking up at her, crumbs still clinging to her lips.

Clarke swallowed hard. She wasn't sure if she was ready for this conversation.

"I - we. We drifted apart. Bellamy was here, and I was in London..."

"Bullshit, Clarke. Tell me what happened."

Fuck Octavia and her right to call bullshit on Clarke at any time.

She leaned back and let out a long sigh.

"It was after an opening. My old girlfriend Nylah was there. We're still good friends, and she's always been supportive of my work."

Octavia nodded as she remembered her. She'd liked her when they'd met in London with her sweet smile and sassy backchat in a typically polite English way.

"I remember."

Clarke's hand shook as she raised her ice coffee to her lips. 

"He - Bellamy," Clarke closed her eyes and swallowed. She felt warm fingers thread through her own.

She shook her head and looked at her best friend, and her voice shook.

"He lost it, Octavia. He completely lost it. He thought she wanted to get back with me and that we were fucking behind his back. He just wouldn't listen to reason. He. God, Octavia," Clarke looked across at her closest friend in the world and the hurt she'd been holding onto ruptured up through her. She held on tight to the tears that wanted to spill out from memories she'd tried to relegate to the back of her mind.

"He shook me, and he just wouldn't stop. I remember trying to calm him down, but he turned into someone I've never seen before," Clarke's voice caught as she remembered that night, "he pushed me so hard I ended up falling on my ass onto the couch. I remember feeling such shock. Such powerlessness. Nothing I said would get through to him. He slapped me so hard I thought he'd broken my cheekbone. I was terrified, and I felt I had no way of stopping him if he went any further."

They were both crying now, and Clarke could feel herself hiccoughing through her tears.

"Oh, Clarke. God, Clarke. I'm so sorry."

Clarke laughed through her tears and pushed at her friend's shoulder.

"Why are you so sorry. It wasn't you."

Octavia looked at her, and there was such misery in her eyes.

"My mom and I. We thought everything was going to be safer when my father left. And it was. It really was for a few years." 

Octavia breathed out, and she smiled at Clarke at through lips that wouldn't stop trembling. She watched as Octavia breathed in and pushed a hand against her mouth.

"Don't, Octavia." Clarke grabbed both of her hands and pulled her into her arms, but Octavia shook her head. 

Determination warred against the sadness on her face.

"He started to change when he went to work with that medical company. He hated mom you know. He'd scream that it was all her fault that he was stuck. Stuck with us. He'd shake her so hard."

They both looked at each other at that.

"He'd shake her and then he'd say his life was shit because he had to look after us. Protect us. Take care of us," Octavia smiled sadly and looked away, her fingers crumbling the remnants of Clarke's snack. 

"He slapped me too. Hard. That time when he found out I was dating that guy back in college. Adam. God, he fucking lost his mind, and I thought he was going to kill me. The only thing that stopped him from hitting me again was Adam who'd heard the noise and came back to our room. He threw Bell out." 

Octavia shook her head and traced lines in the desiccated crumbs that has slipped onto the table top.

"O, I'm sorry. Christ." 

Clarke wanted to ask why her best friend didn't tell her. They told each other everything, but she knew why. The burning shame and the helplessness - the sense of not having any control. She got it. She did, and she clasped Octavia's hands and pulled her into a hug.

"Don't be an ass, just hug me back alright," she whispered fiercely as Octavia sat ramrod straight in her arms. Her words filtered through and their friendship that had survived so many things and they both knew it would survive this too, so Octavia bent and snuggled into Clarke's comfort.

They broke apart when they heard yells coming from next door. Both eyes turned to look when a bunch of people started to whoop and dart around the garden kicking a football between them. A lean figure leaped up in the golden glow of the afternoon light and grabbed the ball mid-air before dashing away from the others.

"Go! Go! If she gets to the fig tree that's a try," a man yelled behind the sprinter who was yards ahead of everyone. They watched as another player with a pulled back ponytail broke away and started chasing the lone runner.

"Geez, she's fast," Octavia whistled as the woman in front side-stepped swiftly changing directions at the last minute causing the woman chasing her to fall flat on the ground. The others playing cat called the fallen woman who just got up and seemed more determined to pursue the blur in front.

Clarke got up and began to walk towards the edge of the porch to follow the activity next door. It was a welcome break from the heaviness of their conversation. In time they'd talk some more. But not right now.

She felt Octavia come up behind her, the soft clump of metal and plastic as she moved across the wooden boards a gentle reminder of her injury.

"How's the leg?"

Octavia scoffed as she watched with bright eyes the antics of Clarke's neighbors.

"Well, I won't be running after her anytime soon. PT. Your mom put me onto someone. My first session starts next Monday. She has high hopes as this guy seems to be some kind of miracle worker."

Clarke nodded and looked at her friend who was staring determinedly at the group of friends yelling at one another next door. 

Octavia's brow crinkled after a minute.

"What the hell game are they playing?"

Clarke looked over and watched as the runner passed the ball backward to a well-built guy running yards behind her. He shot forward as she ran parallel to him but began to run across the field closing in on to Abby's fig tree. She laughed as she recognized the game from countless hours spent in pubs on a Sunday afternoon.

"Rugby."

"Why the fuck are your neighbors playing rugby?"

"Hell if I know." 

Clarke shrugged watching with interest as the ball came flying towards them. 

The woman leaped again and turned towards Abby's verandah, her body lithe in the early afternoon light as she twisted mid-flight. The running woman seemed to be caught in the sunlight and looked like she's been fashioned from copper and gold, her muscles standing out on her forearms and in her biceps, the lines of her calves taut as she twisted towards Clarke's mother's fig tree. 

Clarke watched with interest wishing like hell she'd brought out her sketch pad when green eyes caught blue, and both women stilled in shock. She stared as the fluid grace stuttered for a moment and the woman moved towards Clarke in confusion. 

"Clarke?"

The woman racing behind her had not seen her stop to walk towards them. Clarke stepped forward her eyes widening in worry.

"Watch out!" she yelled, but it was too late, and Lexa went flying when the one behind who'd been chasing her slammed into her lower legs. 

Clarke watched the ball fly up and hurtle towards them as Lexa's face twisted in pain before slamming into the ground just near her mother's rose bushes. And not the fig tree.

"Holy fuck!" Octavia breathed out, "that's gonna hurt."

Clarke ran. She felt her heart in her throat as she watched how Lexa's body had crumpled to the ground and she just ran without thinking flying down the stairs and across the garden to where Lexa now lay.

She dropped to her knees and quickly felt along Lexa's neck for her pulse. The beat was rapid, and she could feel how warm she was.

"Lexa, oh my God. Are you ok?" she bent down close to Lexa's face as eyes fluttered open.

"Clarke." 

It was the softest of whispers, and she smiled into the blue eyes that peered down at her in worry. 

Clarke looked up at the woman standing next to Lexa and glowered at her. It was the same woman who'd picked her up from the station. It was the policewoman from this morning.

"Are you fucking crazy?" she snapped, "are you trying to kill her?"

Lexa groaned and began to move, but Clarke quickly placed her hands on her shoulders.

"Don't move. I'll check to see if anything's broken." 

The woman who'd pulled Lexa down rolled her eyes and scoffed again, but Clarke had seen the quick flare of guilt that had flashed across her eyes.

"She's made of stronger stuff than that Blondie," came the gruff response.

"Anya!" Lexa hissed and the other woman quieted.

Clarke ignored her and began to move her fingers carefully down Lexa's body. 

She could hear the sound of her mother's car pulling into the driveway and breathed out a sigh of relief. Octavia was still on the porch looking down at them worry evident in her eyes. The rest of the group playing slowly started to converge on Lexa's prone form.

Clarke didn't see the look on Lexa's face as she looked at Clarke before she buried it in her crossed arms. Octavia did, and she grinned just as Abby rounded the corner. 

"What's going on?" Abby asked calmly as she took in the group of people on her lawn milling around someone who was laying still on the ground and - Clarke kneeling beside them.

"That idiot tried to kill this idiot by trying to bisect her body with the full force of her own."

"Wow, Clarke. So much for impartial diagnosis!" Octavia yelled down.

"I'm not an idiot," Lexa mumbled into her folded arms.

"Could have fooled me," Clarke muttered as her heart started to calm down. 

Lexa's body slowly crumpling to the ground seemed to be seared into her memory. The woman had looked glorious as she'd spun mid-air before she'd faltered after she'd seen Clarke. 

Clarke breathed out as she realized that it was probably her fault that Lexa had stopped mid-flight. Distracting her at the worst possible moment. Clarke wasn't aware that her fingertips were softly massaging Lexa's shoulders.

"Where does it hurt?" Abby dropped to the ground on the other side of Lexa.

Lexa laughed before whimpering. Clarke tightened the grip she had on her shoulders.

"Where doesn't it?" she groaned before saying, "my right leg. My ankle. I think I fell on it wrong."

"Ok," Abby looked across at the group of young men, and woman clustered around their fallen comrade. 

"Lincoln, are you able to carry her up to the sunroom? It's closer and I can have a better look there."

Clarke looked up as a tall, massive guy moved forward. The muscles in his arms bulged as he lifted up Lexa as if she weighed nothing.

"God damn it, put me down Linc!" Lexa tried to wriggle out of his arms but stilled immediately when Clarke reached for her arm.

"It's quicker, and it minimizes the damage. If you walked up those stairs, you could injure yourself more." Abby said, her words are practical, and Lexa sighs in disgust. 

She complies immediately when she catches Abby's steady stare boring into her. 

The group starts to walk towards the porch and Clarke looks up to see Octavia staring at the young man walking up the stairs towards her. 

She can see the indecision on her face whether to grab for the back door to help. Her face changes for a moment and Clarke can see the exact moment when she decides that she's more likely to get in their way, so she waits and watches them get to the top of the stairs.

Clarke quickly takes the stairs two at a time to catch up and run past to get the door open in time. 

"You're not all crowding in here. The rest of you need to stay outside until I've had a look," Abby's voice is quietly commanding as she addresses the group who had been trying to squeeze behind her.

Clarke snorts as she watches Lexa's eyes widen a little before Lincoln gently lays her down on one of her mother's many sofas in the sunroom.

"Is she always this scary?" Lexa whispers to Clarke while watching Abby deal with her wayward foster siblings and cousins.

Clarke shrugs. She's smiling like sunshine on the inside as this woman has suddenly re-appeared in her life.

"She's not that scary. She just knows how to ask for what she wants," Clarke repeats her mother's mantra before pulling some grass off Lexa's very bare, long legs. 

She wants to touch her, to slide her fingers along the tanned, muscled thigh and down along her shin.

"What are you doing here?" Clarke finally asks, and she brushes her knuckles along Lexa's uninjured leg. She can feel Lexa's slight shiver at her touch.

Lexa rolled her eyes before her brows settled into a frown. Green eyes darted to the door to glare at the tall, dark blonde woman outside. Her sister, if Clarke remembered correctly.

"Anya. I'm going to kill her. My mothers are going to kill her."

"Wait. You mean the couple next door are _your_ parents?" Clarke's voice rises in disbelief and both women's head turn sharply when a soft cough disturbs them. 

Lincoln. The tall, good-looking guy that seemed to ooze muscles was staring down at the two whispering women with a soft smile. He held his hand out to Clarke who took it instinctively.

"Hi, I'm Lincoln." 

His smile is sweet, and soft brown eyes framed by the thickest and longest eye-lashes she's ever seen on a man stare at Clarke, and the curiosity is apparent from the way he keeps looking between the two women.

"Clarke. I'm Abby's daughter. I slept with Lexa on the train," Clarke says unthinkingly until she sees Lincoln's eyebrows shoot to his hairline and heard Lexa's tightly controlled gasp.

"We shared a cabin. There was no sleeping. I mean, yes, we slept together but not in the same bed. We were in the same carriage but -" Lexa burst out in a rapid litany of spluttered words. 

Clarke's blue eyes gleamed with amusement as she watched the gorgeous woman fall apart.

"Hmm. What college did you go to again to study law?" Lincoln grinned as he teased his sister.

Lexa's face had already been reddened from the sport she'd been playing outside. It was the ruddiness of health and afternoon light, but now the deepening crimson began to take on an unhealthy hue.

"Ok. Let's see what your fool of a sister has done to you," Abby walked into the room interrupting Lexa's meltdown, and Clarke could see the enormous sigh of relief Lexa let out as her mom moved to have a look over her injury. 

Abby shifted, moving her hands steadily up and down Lexa's right leg pulling lightly and pushing it gently into different positions. Lexa stoically puts up with it and doesn't say anything throughout the whole process.

"Looks like a mild sprain on your right ankle as you've got full movement around the knee area. I wouldn't have liked it to be an ACL tear," Abby looked up into deep green eyes and noted the way they were focused on Clarke. 

Her eyes flicked over to Clarke whom she'd still not said hello to and saw that her daughter was blushing furiously as she stared at Lexa's legs. She raised an eyebrow and hid the smile that threatened to spill across her face.

"You'll need to rest up a bit. Ice and elevation. And no football for the foreseeable future."

Clarke watched Lexa take in her mother's words and nodding. Yes, Dr Griffin. No, Dr Griffin. Absolutely Dr Griffin. She could feel laughter rising up in her at this very polite version of the grumpy cat woman she'd met on the train.

"Clarke! Baby. Welcome home, honey." Clarke felt her mother's arms pulling her into a soft embrace, and she stopped her instinctive desire to stiffen. 

"Hey, mom." 

She felt herself just sink into the embrace and pulled away when she realized that Lexa and Lincoln didn't need to watch their family reunion. 

Abby was used to her daughter's emotional distance, and even though Clarke hadn't been home for almost ten years, they had recently seen each other at her last exhibition five weeks ago. 

She smiled that practical smile of hers and looked over to Lexa and Lincoln who were both trying to not watch the scene they had inadvertently become a part of.

The back door banged open and Octavia grunted as she tried to move across the floor towards them. She looked over to Clarke before blue-green eyes shifted across to Lincoln's tall figure, and Clarke watched as her best friend swallowed visibly.

"How's the patient?" Octavia finally asked looking at Clarke again, smiling a particularly irritating knowing smile that Clarke recognized. Clarke cocked an eyebrow before turning to her mom for an answer.

"The patient is fine," Lexa growled and looked so discomfited Clarke wanted to burst out laughing. "And she thinks you're all over reacting."

Abby hummed as she finished the bandaging around Lexa's ankle which had begun to swell. Clarke went and grabbed one of the many ice packs her mother had stashed in her freezer.

She watched how Lexa's eyes were carefully trained on her as she wrapped a dish towel around the ice pack. Clarke slowly moved forward and fitted it gently around Lexa's ankle whose eyes skittered away as Clarke's fingertips touched silky skin above the bandaged area. 

Clarke tried hard not to stare at the slender foot, the lines of perfectly graceful toes pointing delicately as they rested against one of her mother's cushions.

Clarke watched her mother take Lincoln over to Octavia and watched as her mother introduced them. She watched how her friend stiffened for a minute and the suddenly polite smile she offered him before thrusting out her hand to shake. She was going full military on him with her straightened shoulders, and a severe 'I may kick your ass' kind of look. Clarke wondered what the hell was going on. She could have sworn Octavia was giving him the 'holy hell, look at you!' eyes only moments before.

"Hey," Lexa said softly.

Clarke's gaze quickly moved down, and she knelt before Lexa's chair.

"Hey. Are you ok? Your sister really hit you hard. I thought your spine was split in two."

Lexa's lips pursed tight until the full bottom lip almost disappeared.

"She's always been extremely competitive," Lexa said quietly, her face utterly devoid of any emotion as she looked at Clarke. 

"She tackled me legally though so it was mostly my hips and legs that bore the brunt of it."

Clarke shook her head.

"Why the hell are you playing rugby?"

Lexa's eyes brightened, and she leaned towards Clarke who suddenly found her breathing difficult with their proximity. She could smell Lexa's soap and the light salty tang of sweat.

"You play rugby?"

"Are you fucking insane?" Clarke laughed as she watched the crestfallen look on Lexa's face, "don't answer that. That was a rhetorical question. I used to watch it when I went to the pub on a Sunday afternoon. It was a thing I used to do. It kind of made me feel connected to the people in my area."

Clarke leans back on her haunches and sits to stare wistfully at the girl in front of her. Green eyes are full of curiosity, but Clarke can see that Lexa withdraws a little after that remark. And she remembers her comment at the station. 

"It was hard saying goodbye to London, but it was time to come home," she says carefully.

Clarke watches those green eyes widen, and the very beginnings of a soft smile spread across Lexa's face.

"Oh." It is said so softly that it feels like a breath across Clarke's cheeks but that 'oh' tells her so many things. 

And she smiles back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled a little with what would Clarke miss eating from the US as I'm not American so had to Google like hell. If I've made any cultural mistakes I apologise. Please tell me and give me your suggestions. I'll add it. I wanted peanut buttery goodness but not with chocolate like Reese's peanut butter cups (although these are quite yummy!).


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa like each other. Like - like like. And Octavia blows a gasket and we meet Lexa's moms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I've been caught up with DOTG. I have had a lot of fun with this chapter. I hope you like it. Lots of fluffy stuff and some angst as we meet the moms for the first time.

Abby is ruthless as she moves out most of Lexa's family from the back veranda. 

The tall woman with dirty blonde hair is the one who had tackled Lexa, and she has a few choice words. Abby hasn't done her fair share of emergency departments for nothing and is quick to shut her protests down. Out. The 'think about what you could have done today' speech doesn't go down well. 

"Have you called Nia yet?" 

Clarke could see the relish in Abby's eyes at the way the woman flinched at that.

Abby is putting on her shocked doctor voice which Clarke knows all too well. Clarke's eyes dart towards the back door, and she watches as the woman turns a dull gray color. Clarke can't quite see her as her mother is blocking most of her face, but a part of her delights in her discomfort on Lexa's behalf. 

Clarke's brow furrows as she remembers that hair color and those sharp cheekbones. She's the same woman who had given her grief this morning playing with the police siren at the train station in Arcadia. Lexa's sister. 

The woman who had utterly stressed Lexa out and made Clarke forget to ask simple things like; can I have your number so that we can catch up while I'm here. 

Simple things like that.

They both watch as the rugby players leave Abby's back step. Anya departs with a storm on her face with her siblings and cousins following close behind. Clarke looks over at Lexa who has closed her eyes and is shifting uncomfortably under the ice packs.

Clarke drops to her knees and moves the packs around Lexa's ankle. She tries to find the right spot to place them so that Lexa can get more comfortable. Looking down at a very elegant foot, Clarke can see the swelling already forming around the right ankle. She looks up at Lexa who is staring at her with wide green eyes.

"So," Clarke drawls, "read any good books lately?"

Lexa blinks rapidly, and her mouth opens in a quiet 'oh' of surprise before she lets out an irritated huff.

"Ha, ha. Very amusing," Lexa grinds out, and Clarke laughs softly.

"Would you like me to read to you?" Clarke is solicitous while Abby walks past to put away her med kit in her office, but it's apparent to both young women that Clarke is putting on a show for her mother's benefit.

An arched brow rises eloquently, and Clarke can't help but stare at the full, soft lips that purse for a moment before they start to widen in a delighted smile.

"That would be lovely Clarke. I have just the thing on my phone."

Clarke throws her head back and laughs. She doesn't notice the look of smug happiness on Lexa's face that she'd been the one that caused this joyous sound. Nor the blush when Abby walks back into the room and looks at Clarke quizzically.

"What's so funny?" Abby's voice is full of mirth pleased with her daughter's sounds of laughter.

Clarke grins and looks over at Lexa. She can see the look of panic in the other woman's green eyes and decides to show her a little compassion.

"Oh, we were enjoying a common passion for Virginia Woolfe," Clarke smiled at Lexa whose green eyes were starting to dart everywhere with discomfort.

Ok. Maybe not as merciful as Clarke had intended.

Abby tipped her head to the side and looked at Clarke in confusion.

"Not sure why that's funny, Clarke. Please don't tell me you've picked up a British sense of humor. No-one here will get it," Abby deadpanned.

"Ha! Funny mom. No. Lexa kindly reminded me about Mrs. Ramsey in _To The Lighthouse,_   and how she prefers boobies to clever men who write dissertations. Lexa implied that she thought Mrs. Ramsey was gay."

Lexa snorted and then covered her mouth in shock. Both Abby and Clarke turn to stare at her. Abby's mouth quirks as she looks knowingly at Lexa. Clarke stares at Lexa as if she's discovered something wholly remarkable and her eyes light up.

"I'm going to assume there's some reason why my daughter is lying out of her ass about what you two were giggling about, but that's ok. I'm going to be the bigger woman and ignore you both." 

Abby smiled before looking back down at Lexa's ankle.

"Alright young lady," Abby looked over at the serious looking young woman and held out her hand, "I'm Abby, and I'm going to assume you're Lexa? Nia and Indra's youngest?"

Clarke watched with fascination as she watched how Lexa's demeanor changed. She was struggling, but she managed to pull off the inner city lawyer face that Clarke had grown to know and weirdly enough, find extremely cute. 

Lexa straightened her shoulders and managed to look powerful even though she had to look up into Abby's face and was lying prone on her couch surrounded by ice packs and a kneeling Clarke.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm their youngest daughter. Alexandria Forest. Lexa." A slim tanned hand shot out to shake Abby's who instinctively took it in surprise. 

"I"m sorry to have inconvenienced you this afternoon and interrupted your homecoming with your daughter."

Abby huffed.

"Well, if your lunkhead of a sister wasn't such a show-off, " Abby rolled her eyes, and for a moment Lexa's eyes sparkled again. Clarke liked that glint of intense green. She wanted to draw it. She wanted to draw Lexa. Like that moment with her body outlined by the afternoon Fall sun. 

Clarke jolted when the flash of blue and red lights splashed across the back walls of her mother's sunroom, and the distinct whoop of a siren spilled into the house with its awful klaxon.

"What the hell, Lexa? Clarke groaned, "what is it with you and the police?" 

Clarke's eyes had narrowed, and she stared at the young woman sitting with her bare foot in front of Clarke. Beautiful green eyes stared across at confused blue ones.

"It's not the police. It's just Lexa's mom come to get her," Abby quipped, "be grateful your father and I never did this to you."

Clarke smiled when she saw how Lexa rolled her eyes at Abby. Wondrous. Lexa Forest was equally unimpressed with her mother's not so comedic bedside manner. Their eyes meet again, and there's a flash of something - a recognition and acknowledgment. Of something.

Abby's front door opens. A tall woman with white-blonde hair that is pulled back into the tightest bun Clarke's ever seen walks into the room. Her icy blue eyes are slightly pulled upwards trying to follow the path of least resistance chasing taut strands of hair that sits beneath a deep blue sheriff's cap.

Clarke watches as the woman walks in, owning the whole room with the way she struts in like a paramilitary leader come to inspect the troops. Clarke fidgets and shifts, eyes darting across to Lexa's who she catches staring at her. Green eyes quickly move away and look up to the newcomer.

"Hey mom," Lexa tries to smile but fails spectacularly. Clarke can see she's nervous. There's a little tremor to her lips which she quickly compresses to prevent anyone seeing.

The long pause is awful, and even Clarke has to swallow down her nerves at the fierce look that's thrown at Lexa. She wants to reach out and grab her hand but instead gently touches Lexa's foot as if to ground her with that small action.

"Two years," the woman finally says, and her voice is a low, angry growl. "Two years for you to come and visit your mother. Your family."

She breathes in deeply, and Clarke watches with growing worry as Lexa's face falls with each bitter word.

"And in the first two hours of you being here, I get a phone call from Lincoln to say you've been injured."

It's evident to Clarke she's got a lot more she wants to say to Lexa, but Clarke is of the opinion that this is something that mother and daughter should do in the privacy of - anywhere but here because she wants to rise and smite her down with a sword. Or gun. Or her bare fists. 

Anything to stop the distressed look that's now crawling across Lexa's face.

"Oh for God's sake, Nia. Enough with the dramatics," Abby interrupts what looks like to be a full-on smack-down and Clarke breathes a sigh of relief. 

"If you're going to yell at anyone, yell at your eldest and her inability to contain her competitive spirit."

"Yes! She totally tackled her when Lexa was distracted!" 

Clarke smiled across at Lexa as she continued to stick up for her, "and Lexa was going to beat her."

"Well, she shouldn't have been distracted," Nia's voice was cold as she now turned to look over at Clarke and then rolled her eyes. 

"Let me guess. You were the distraction?"

"Mom!"

Clarke couldn't believe it, but the hotshot Washington lawyer actually squealed.

Abby laughed outright. Clarke simply gawked.

"And you must be the prodigal daughter," Nia stared at Clarke through narrowed eyes.

"Mom, stop it!" Lexa's voice has a strained tension to it, and Clarke watched with growing concern as she can see how quickly the young woman has paled and her breathing seems to have become shorter. 

Panicked.

Clarke's hand shot out and gently restrained Lexa who was struggling to move her legs to the ground so that she could get back up on her feet.

"Hey," Clarke said softly, "you need to keep that elevated for a little bit longer."

Green eyes stared into hers, and she felt her breath hitch for a moment. She watched as Lexa tried to use a breathing technique to calm herself. 

Clarke patted the soft skin of Lexa's leg before raising herself from the floor. She extended her hand to the very intimidating woman who stood before them in front of the couch. 

"Hi. Yes, I'm Clarke." 

Her voice is soft, low and she's desperately trying to distract Nia from the daughter who seems to be going into a full-on panic attack. 

"And yes, I was the distraction. I called out at the worst possible moment." 

It's a slight reframing of the truth, but only she, Lexa and Octavia know it. And Octavia is still outside with Lincoln.

She smiled the smile she'd used on countless benefactors and art lovers. It's a charming smile. Sweet and self-effacing. It's garnered her support and money and studio space. 

And apparently, it's utterly useless on a woman who's looked after innumerable foster kids as she continues to look sternly at Lexa before turning her gaze back to Clarke.

"Hmm. She's obviously the charming one in the family," Nia finally says before looking smugly at Abby who laughed in response.

"Oh, leave them alone. They've both had long journeys getting here, and it doesn't matter how they got here or how long it took; they're both home now."

Abby looks affectionately at Clarke and pulls her into a hug again, breathing her in.

Clarke smiles before moving in her mother's embrace to turn around to Nia and Lexa. She drapes her arm around her mother's waist and sighs. Being back home feels good.

Nia looks over at Lexa and shakes her head softly.

"Are you ok, little one? Is Linc still here? I'll get him to take you to the car, and we'll get you home that way."

Clarke loves how Lexa blushes. She loves how it colors her beautifully tanned features and Clarke is itching to capture it in oils. Maybe charcoal and Ingres paper first. Then oils. She jolts when the back door slams shut.

"Who the hell does he think he is?" 

Octavia storms into the room in the way a kicked can does. In stops and spurts as she navigates the room with her crutches. She's so intent in her anger Octavia doesn't realize that there's someone else there until she finally looks up when she gets to the couch. 

"Oh. Hey. Sorry, I didn't realize you had more visitors, Abby." 

Octavia's voice is a little more subdued, but it's evident that she's curbing the anger from whatever interaction she's had with Lexa's younger brother.

Nia stares at her for a long time, and Clarke watches her usually fearless friend swallow a little.

"That was most likely my son. And you would be?" 

Nia straightens her shoulders and gives her a look that would incinerate a volcano in full eruption. 

Clarke notes how her mother coughs to cover up a laugh behind her hand. Clarke is slowly learning that her mother knows Nia well and that just maybe, Nia is dicking with them. 

Octavia hasn't been in the army for almost ten years without having formed a backbone and a steely demeanor when required. She stares down Nia's long look with her own.

"Captain Octavia Blake," she ground out, and her eyes have narrowed to turquoise slits. 

Clarke can see the white-knuckled grip as she grasps at her crutches and the way she's pulled her lips into a thin tight line. Octavia maybe on crutches but she's standing her ground with Lexa's mother. 

At that thought, Clarke's eyes quickly dart back down to Lexa. Green eyes look away, but Clarke catches the tail end of her stare and knows without a doubt that lawyer girl is checking her out. 

She wants to smile. Oh yes, she does, but now is not the time when Octavia is about to smack down someone who's apparently only teasing them.

Nia's eyebrows rise. They are pale against her tanned face and her mouth curls up on the side as she takes in Octavia. She nods once.

"Welcome home, Captain. I've heard about you from Abby here."

Octavia nods once, and her fingers loosen her crutches. She fumbles in the pocket of her jeans, and the look she gives Clarke with a tilt of her head as she takes in how Clarke is standing before Lexa is enough to tell Clarke that she's seen things and Clarke is busted. 

Octavia is smart enough to keep her thoughts to herself and looks back at Nia.

"Turns out your son is my new physical therapist," she finally says in a quiet voice before looking at Abby suspiciously.

"Apparently, he's your miracle worker?" Octavia almost scoffs but is aware that said physical therapist's mother is in the room and she should probably tone it down.

"He's not mine. He's going to be yours." Abby's smile is gentle but its the same one both women remember as children that meant that she means business. 

Octavia's eyebrows furrow as she watches Abby who's still smiling that crazy ass smile of hers that means you're going to end up doing what she wants and you're going to love it when you do it. No questions asked.

"Alright. Well, it looks like I'm going to have to get you on home by myself," Nia growls at Lexa who sighs slowly as her mother turns towards her.

"I'm ok," Lexa says in a quiet voice, and Clarke just wants to grab her and say no I only just found you again, please stay but she knows she's thinking like an idiot and Lexa is more likely to go running back into the city if she does that. 

And Nia will probably find her and kill her with her gun because apparently, its taken Lexa over two years to come back home. She's not judging. How can she when it took her almost ten.

"Well, not to state the obvious my love, but you are so not ok. Abby, help me with this fool who thinks she can stop her sister crash tackling her to the ground by pretending to be a tree."

Clarke doesn't want to laugh, so she bites her bottom lip hard. She looks over to Lexa, and she can see by the narrowed eyes that she's seen and is not impressed with Clarke's reaction. 

"Clarke can help you," Abby replies and smiles over at her daughter whose face has started to flush a deep red. 

Clarke can see that her mother is thinking that her daughter probably has the worst poker face as she hides the wide, toothy grin that's slowly spreading across her countenance. 

"She's a lot stronger than me with those artist's arms of hers," Abby teases.

Clarke's heart is in her mouth as she bends forward toward Lexa to help up from the seat. She moves the ice packs out of the way and slowly helps Lexa move her feet back to the ground.

"Hey, I won't put your shoe back on ok?"

"What, not your kind of Cinderella?" Lexa jokes under her breath so that its only Clarke who can hear her. 

Abby and Nia are discussing logistics behind them, and Octavia's eyes are firmly focussed on her phone, her thumbs wildly swiping as she texts someone.

Clarke bends closer to Lexa's ear.

"Are you asking me to be your Princess Charming?"

"You are such an ass, Clarke."

"Takes one to know one."

Lexa's brow furrows and deep green eyes just stare at Clarke who finds that she's suddenly breathless. Their faces are almost touching. Clarke's lips are close to breaching the delicate edge of a perfect ear.

"Ok you two, break it up. Clarke, you get on the other side, and we'll cradle her and carry her out to the car." 

Nia's voice infiltrates their little cocoon, and both women move apart quickly.

"Here, put your arm on my shoulder, and I'll pull you up," Clarke smiles at her little patient. She can see Lexa is desperate to roll her eyes, but she remains ever polite. 

Clarke feels the jolt of electricity as slender fingers reach up and grasp her shoulder. Clarke takes one arm and begins to pull Lexa into a standing position. Lexa sways for a moment, and Clarke's other arm reaches out and grabs her waist quickly. She hears the soft intake of breath and smiles. 

Ok. Good. It's not just Clarke who feels something, but Lexa has a good game face and doesn't let anything appear on her visage. 

"I'm not going to let you go," Clarke says softly and watches how Lexa reacts to that statement. 

Green eyes look away, and Clarke can see a sudden flare of sadness. It is a weariness that seems to make all of Lexa's body sag and Clarke automatically pulls her into her side. 

"Your mom is going to spit chips," Nia finally says as she moves to the other side of Lexa. 

Clarke's eyes open in surprise, and she leans towards Lexa with her brows meeting in the middle of her forehead. 

Lexa laughs softly and smiles across at Clarke who's now forming an arm cradle by clasping her forearm and linking hands with Nia so they can carry Lexa to the car.

"It's not literal, Clarke. She's not going to be spitting fries at me," Lexa's smiles. 

Clarke shakes her head and looks at Lexa.

"I know what it means, Lexa," she scoffs. Clarke is now curious, and she wants to get into the car with Lexa. She's desperate to meet this other 'spitting' mother.

"My other mom lived in New Zealand and Australia when she was a kid. She picked up a few - sayings."

Nia snorted on the other side of Lexa and Abby is not far behind her in joining in.

"My daughter. Queen of the hyperbole! Oh my God, yes. I had no idea what she was saying to me half the time when we first met," Nia grinned hugely and looked back at Abby indicating that she get the door.

"Ok. On three we lift." 

And lift they did much to Lexa's chagrin. Clarke could see it in her face and her posture. The way she held herself so stiffly with Clarke's arms being used as a cradle for her bottom. Clarke obviously didn't want to drop her before they got to the sheriff's car but it was hard not to burst out laughing at the woman's patent discomfort. 

She pressed her lips tight when two green eyes snapped over to look at her, with such a look of recrimination in them. 

Nia and Clarke moved Lexa through the front door which was wide enough for them to pass through quickly but they still needed to go ahead with Nia leading the way first. The only problem was going to be the few steps that went from the house and into the driveway.

"Abby, keys are in the back pocket. No funny business now or my wife will have something to say."

Abby rolled her eyes and dug into the back pocket of Nia's uniform. Clarke almost dropped Lexa then as she'd never seen her mother so comfortable with anyone let alone this woman who'd frozen the room out before.

"Octavia, you stay put!" Abby yelled out as she saw her struggle to get the door and come through behind them. 

"Are you kidding me, Abby? I don't think I've laughed my ass off so much in a long time. Clarke needs to roll up her tongue though. She's drooling on the patient."

Abby lunged forward to grab Lexa as Nia threw her head back and laughed hard. Clarke grimaced as she tried to keep a tight grip on the laughing woman and managed instead to squeeze Lexa's backside hard.

"Fuck!" 

Clarke gasped. "Lexa, I am so sorry. I was just trying to make sure you didn't fall."

Octavia snorted in the background watching Clarke flail as she tried to get a better grip on Nia's hand and not Lexa's ass. Clarke watched with growing horror as Lexa winced and started to topple slightly to the right.

"Shit, she's slipping. Hurry up and open the God damn door!" 

Nia's voice is urgent through her barely contained snorting as they quickly crab walked the last steps towards the car. Only when Lexa is seated carefully on the back seat does Clarke let out a slow breath of relief.

"Bloody hell, are you ok?" her voice was soft, almost a whisper as she stared into tired green eyes which opened slightly to look back at her. There was a slight tilt to Lexa's mouth as she tried to hold back her smile. 

"Next time you and my mom decide to carry me somewhere, Clarke - please restrain yourself and try not to grab at my - "

Before she can finish what she was going to say - Clarke's hand shot out and covered her mouth. She bent forward and got very close to the woman who was laughing against her palm.

"Don't you dare! That was an accident!"

Lexa's eyes crinkled at the corners before she mumbled behind Clarke's hand.

"What? I can't hear you?" Clarke teased and then bent forward to whisper in Lexa's ear, "Is your mother always this scary?"

She yelped when she feels a nip at the soft part of her hand and snatches it from Lexa's mouth.

"She's not that scary," Lexa repeats Clarke's words from before, and the smile on her face is so lovely Clarke just wants to bend forward and kiss it. "She just knows how to ask for what she wants." 

Clarke rolled her eyes.

"Uh, Clarke. You need to get out of the car now." 

Clarke almost hit her head as Nia's carefully controlled voice came through a tiny speaker in the back of the car. Lexa's eyes reflect her alarm at Clarke's sudden movement but her reflexes are fast, and she quickly grabbed Clarke's shoulder preventing her from hitting the roof of the vehicle.

Clarke smiled at Lexa and slowly got out before joining her mother at the side of the driveway. They both waved as the car pulled out and drove down Abby's long drive on to the road, the siren flashing and whooping. 

Clarke just knew that Lexa would be cringing inside. It seemed that even though Anya was adopted by Nia, in this case, the apple didn't fall too far from the tree.

"Ok, young lady. What the hell was that all about?" Abby raised an eyebrow and Clarke could feel herself begin to flush.

"Honestly mom? I have no bloody idea."

*** 

Lexa can feel the blood draining from her face at the look on her mother's stern features which she can directly observe through the rearview mirror. Her arctic blue-green eyes are narrowing slightly, and there's a definite smirk edging the corners of her mouth.

"Is there something you want to tell me about your trip home?"

"No, not really."

She knows she's acting ridiculous. Nia has seen how Clarke was with her and she's seen firsthand her reaction to Clarke.

"It seems like you two got pretty close in the short time you were with each other."

Lexa shifts in the back seat and almost topples against the metal barrier between her and the front seat. She winces as the sharp movement jars her ankle.

"You ok back there?"

Lexa tugs at her lower lip and tries not to look into the rearview mirror. Or the side mirrors. Or any reflective surfaces that she may inadvertently have eye contact with her adopted mother. 

Nia Forest had been one of the area's top detectives before becoming Sheriff of Arcadia and Polis Counties. She didn't get to that position for no reason. 

Lexa has found it's a lot easier to lie to her if there's no discernible contact through the iris. She wishes she had her glasses on.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Lexa!" 

Nia's voice is sharp with affront as Lexa reverts to her early adolescent salutation for her adopted mother.

"Sorry, mom." It's a soft gasp of regret, and her voice shakes a little.

She drops her head and begins to twist the hem of her t-shirt.

"You don't have to hide it from me." 

Nia's dark blonde eyebrow is raised so high it's almost reaching the edge of her hairline.

"There is absolutely nothing to hide, mom. I met Clarke on the train. I didn't know who she was. I didn't realize that she was the daughter of your next door neighbor."

Lexa can feel the breathlessness build up in her as she lists all the reasons why nothing is going on between her and Clarke. There isn't. There can't be. She doesn't know why Nia has to harp on like this.

"She's a beautiful young woman," Nia completely ignores everything Lexa has said as she slowly drives up to the rambling house on the hill next to the Griffins. Next to being a relative term as the drive is a quarter of a mile away.

"I'm not surprised you'd be attracted to her."

Apparently, she's not required for her half of the conversation as Nia isn't listening to a word she's saying. As usual.

The driveway is steep and lined with poplars. Their leaves have mostly gone, but the ones that are still intact flutter and whisper as the car quietly whooshes past along the gravel drive. It's the second time today she's headed up this same path in a God damn sheriff's car. 

Lexa doesn't want to feel the gnawing pain growing in the pit of her gut. She doesn't want to feel the band that tightens across her chest, and she furiously blinks as she can feel her eyes becoming glassy with unshed tears. 

"I'm not interested." Her voice is soft, but Nia seems to hear.

"Uh huh," Nia gets out of the car and moves to the back seat. Lexa keeps her eyes cast down, but she's pretty sure she's not fooling her mom who for once ignores Lexa's deflections instead of calling her on it as she leans in through the window. 

She doesn't comment on the apparent misery of her youngest daughter. One look at Lexa, and Nia's thinking that this is a job for Indra who has always been able to get through Lexa's thick walls.

"I'll get Lincoln to come and help you move, ok?" 

Nia's voice is softer than usual, and it's almost enough to break Lexa who does not want her kindness.

Lexa nods furiously and forces herself not to wipe away the tears that are threatening to embarrass the hell out of her.

She breathes in deeply and tries to get it together. She's tired, and she can feel the unnatural crankiness rising in her. She's tired, sore, cantankerous as fuck, and she just wants to listen to a fic or read one of the hundred books that are still packed tight in her bookshelves upstairs. 

Upstairs. 

Fuck. Upstairs! Her room is at the top of the stairs just below Lincoln's attic room. How is she going to get up and down with this stupid ankle? Damn Anya. Why did she always have to be so competitive with her? She can feel her lower lip push out, and if she weren't trapped in the back of the Sherriff's car, she'd stamp her foot against the back door in frustration.

"Hey, sis." Lincoln opens the back door of the car and looks in on her. 

He can see the dismay on her face in the way her mouth droops and the way she's pulling on her t-shirt. He knows better than to ask her what's up. 

"Ankle's not too bad. Dr. Griffin give you something for that?" he asks quietly as he slowly helps her move from the back of the car by coming in behind her and putting one strong arm beneath her knees before pulling her out of the car. 

Lexa can feel the crispness of the fast cooling evening air. She's cold in just a t-shirt and shorts, and her foot is freezing.

"Anti-inflammatories," Lexa grunts.

"Uh-huh," Lincoln carries her weight quite comfortably as he walks steadily towards the front of the house where the light from inside spills out onto the front porch, "need more ice or have you had enough of that till the next hour?"

"Yes. Clarke - " she stops, the words getting stuck in her throat as she remembers bright blue eyes and a perfect white smile. 

"The hot blonde with the slight British accent?"

Ok. Lexa is not sure she's happy that her adopted brother is looking at Clarke like that. And yes, Clarke does have a cute little accent and funny little sayings. She remembers the 'bloody hell' that was thrown at her after Clarke had grabbed her ass and almost fell on top of her in the back of her mom's work car.

"She's just come back from London." 

Lexa shivers when they walk into the warmth of her family's lounge area. She can feel the tightening of Lincoln's biceps as he holds her tighter while pushing the door shut with the back of his foot.

"It's cute," Lincoln states in that soft voice of his, but it just irritates Lexa. 

"Her friend was -, " and Lexa looks up at her brother when his voice softens so much that she can barely hear him, "outrageously resistant to PT. She thinks we're a bunch of overpaid twits who work for the government hell-bent on keeping veterans 'viable fodder' for the enemy to fuck up." 

It's obvious he's quoting her, and he's got a massive smile on his face. Lexa lets out a soft bark of laughter.

"Oh my God. She did not say that to you. Does she know who you are or what you do?"

Lincoln shrugs and nods before looking around the room and then down at Lexa.

"Where do you want to sit?"

She desperately wants warmer clothes, but she can't just change in the middle of the lounge, so she indicates with her chin and points to the three-seater across from the television. 

They can hear Nia banging cupboard doors in the kitchen and yelling at Anya. She figures it's best to stay out of their way as they yell it out. 

She sighs softly when Lincoln finally gets her onto the couch, fluffs up some cushions and lays her injured ankle on the top of it.

"Oh my God, you'd think I did it on purpose!" 

She flinches at the rise in Anya's voice which comes spilling into the lounge. Lincoln makes one of his little faces at her, and she tries not to giggle.

"Do you want the TV on to drown out the sounds of joyous homecoming?" his voice is gentle as he quips facetiously at the increasingly louder argument that slides through the doorways of the house and bounces off the front door.

Lexa closes her eyes and wonders if she can have a whiskey if she's had anti-inflammatories.

"That might be an idea," her voice is a whisper of sound, and he nods before clicking on the remote. Lincoln throws himself into a plush, rich blue armchair, the stitching in the fabric has loosened in parts, but it's comfortably old and familiar, and Lexa smiles as he wiggles to get cozier.

"Well, if you weren't so damned competitive all the time." 

There's the unspoken tension between Nia and Anya. And the other daughter. Both Lincoln and Lexa can hear the missing words. With Lexa.

"I don't need to compete with Lexa, mom. If that's what you're implying." Anya's voice is getting harsher and manages to be shrill even over the top of the opening credits for the Gilmore Girls.

Lexa looks over at Lincoln, and she really wishes for that whiskey now, and it must be reflected in her eyes as he gets up and walks over the drinks cabinet and pours two drinks for them. 

Neat. No ice. Not because they're tough or bad ass. The ice is in the kitchen and Lincoln is not game, even for Lexa, to go in there and grab a couple of cubes just for their drinks. 

He hands her a glass and then sits down comfortably before clinking his glass with hers.

"Welcome home, Lexa."

"Thanks, Linc."

She doesn't ask why Nia and Anya are fighting. Nia is on Anya's case whenever Lexa comes home as Anya always does something a little over the top with her younger sister. 

Last time was almost three years ago when Anya had raced Lexa up a tree and broken a branch before hurtling back down to the ground and nearly busting both her legs. Anya was like a cat though and had quickly landed on her feet. 

Lexa hadn't been so lucky as she'd watched in horror as her sister went flying down the tree. Lexa had then slipped and fallen onto the branch below her and had landed on it right between her legs. She hadn't been able to walk or sit comfortably for hours. Lexa grimaced at the memory.

She takes a small swallow of her drink and exhales softly as the aged whiskey slides down her throat in a lovely, slow burn. She murmurs her thanks to Lincoln who nods and turns to watch as Lorelei Gilmore has yet another terrible argument with Emily about what a terrible mother she is, how she's strangled her and stifled her. Lincoln rolls his eyes and Lexa can hear a muttered 'life imitating art?'

They both quieten when the front door swings open, and Indra walks into the living room her eyes darting immediately over to Lexa's.

Lexa can feel her heart exploding as Anya yells out another string of weighted barbs at Nia. She watches, her eyes an expression of how much she hates the conflict and Lexa tries not to blink when Indra's mouth thins into a compressed line. 

Indra looks enquiringly at the two sitting in the semi-darkness. Lexa would be inclined to laugh at the double take Indra does when she sees Lexa's bandaged foot and the cushions.

"Anya, I'm guessing?"

Lexa nods and Lincoln murmurs noncommittally. Nia's slamming of the kitchen cupboard doors merely reinforces what's not been said by the two younger siblings.

"It was an accident," Lexa's voice is tired, and she wishes she could just go to bed. And maybe take the rest of the scotch with her.

"Hmm," Indra's murmur is so like Lincoln's that Lexa is surprised she's never noticed it before. It has the same non-judgemental patience that God did not grace Nia or Anya in her infinite wisdom. 

"Was she proving something like she could run faster? Jump higher? Drink more?" 

Than Lexa. No one is saying it, but it's always there. 

"We were playing rugby," Lexa starts and genuinely smiles when she sees the radiant grin on Indra's face.

"Who was winning?"

"All Blacks, of course." 

Lexa always chose to be on the New Zealand national rugby team. And Anya still decides to play for Wales. Lexa had no idea why Anya did this, but Anya was always determined to play for the underdog, and she liked the dragon on the flag. 

Indra softly laughs as she put her bag on the hallway table before moving closer to her never present daughter. Even when she's home.

"What happened?"

Lincoln laughed.

"Clarke happened."

Lexa glared at him before looking away from her mother's intense scrutiny.

"A boy?" her face frowned in confusion and a little bit of shock.

At that Lincoln burst out laughing as Lexa's eyes reflected her horror her mouth turning down in disgust.

"A very hot girl, mom." Lincoln was impervious to the death stare that Lexa was now throwing at him and almost flinched when Indra reached down and gently rubbed Lexa's leg.

"I find that hard to believe of Lexa." 

It's a firm assertion, and under any other circumstances, her mother would be right. Just not this time.

"I saw her at the last minute as I was turning for the try line." 

Abby's fig tree. Clarke entirely lit up by sunlight. And now she's gone and blown the cover Clarke so carefully crafted for her.

"Oh. Ouch."

Indra's face grimaced and looked down at the ankle, "Lucky then."

Lexa exhaled and nodded slowly in agreement. She looked up at Indra, and then her eyes flitted toward the kitchen where the fight between Nia and Anya seemed to be geared toward the second level of hell.

Indra looks down with affection at her youngest girl. Her shining star who always wanted the back seat and never the limelight. Lexa had never coped well with conflict, and the ruckus those two were making was enough to make the devil streak through a snowstorm just to get them to quit their hollering. 

Lexa breathes out as Indra bends forward and pulls her into one of her special hugs. She inhales the unique scent of her mother. It's comforting even though Lexa is stiff at first, but eventually, memory kicks in, and her body melts into what Lexa has come to associate with safety. 

And even though she is not that familiar with this new home they've created in Arcadia far from their old place in Washington, Lexa still recognizes it from the smells and sounds that surround her. Indra murmurs a soft 'welcome home, love,' before they let go of each other. 

Indra has bent awkwardly over the couch, and Lexa knows from the slight flaring of her mother's nostrils that she's now seen the dark circles beneath Lexa's deep green eyes, but she doesn't push it. Not yet. 

After releasing Lexa, she moves slowly back to a standing position before heading to the muted growls coming from the kitchen. 

Lexa is left with Lincoln in the lamplight as the day begins to darken outside and they can hear the low murmur of Indra's voice breaking into the ongoing argument. Whatever she said was enough as the silence that followed seemed a lot heavier than the sound of tight, terse voices snapping at each other.

Lexa shook her head.

"She has a gift." 

Her voice is quiet and a little bit wistful as she looks at Lincoln who rolls his eyes.

"She works with hormonal teenagers. Those two don't stand a chance."

Lexa laughed, and Lincoln beamed at the sound of it. It was lovely and had rarely been heard in the last few years. He looked at his little sister and hoped that the dark shadows beneath her eyes would disappear with the two weeks holiday she'd planned on with her family.

"So. Clarke." 

It isn't a question. It is merely an opening. 

Lexa knows Lincoln won't push, but the sudden beating of her heart reminds her of the strange sensation she'd had in her chest when she'd caught sight of the woman leaning on the neighbor's back porch. 

She'd had the full light of the afternoon sun on her and had seemed to be floating in gold and sunshine. Clarke had taken Lexa's breath away and apparently, her common sense. There was no way in a million years she'd have stopped liked that when Anya was on her tail. 

She sighs softly, and there's a little smile on her lips which tilt up awkwardly as if she's trying to remember how to make the shape of one.

"She's - interesting."

"Uh huh. Define interesting?"

"She's an artist. A brilliant one from what I could see of her drawings, and she doesn't really filter her thoughts much. She's direct," Lexa thought out loud and listed the little observations she'd made about Clarke after the short time sharing the space on the overnight sleeper. She has brilliant blue eyes, and her mouth is - ok, no point going there. Even if Clarke is staying; Lexa is not.

"Really? Is she famous?" Lincoln's eyes light up, and Lexa shrugs. 

"Well, let's Google her." 

He's enthusiastic as he pulls out his phone and starts searching. Lexa is kicking herself for not having thought of it. She looks up at him inquiringly when he lets out a long, slow whistle.

"Looks like your Clarke is a bit of a big deal in the art world. She's got an exhibition coming back to the states in a few months in New York."

"What? Show me?" 

She almost falls off the couch as she leans towards him trying to get a look at his phone. Lincoln laughs and hands it to her so that she can read the article safely.

Lexa peers at the phone and tries not to show a reaction to the photo they've used. Clarke is smiling and looking up from where she's sitting on the steps of an art gallery. The Tate Modern in London according to the caption in the photo. 

She's wearing a light cotton shirt that's the same deep blue as her eyes. In her hands, she's clutching her sketchpad and pencils as she sprawls across the steps in her jeans and biker boots, dark aviator glasses sitting on the top of a mass of blonde hair that's flying away in an unseen breeze.

"Shit," Lexa exhales and looks across at her brother, "she's very modest. I had no idea."

"And it certainly helps that she's super..." he wiggles his eyebrows, and Lexa laughs as she smacks him gently on the arm.

"Stop it," Lexa smiles, "she irritated the hell out of me at first, but - I liked her. She made me laugh at myself." 

Lexa's voice is so full of wonder at the sudden realization.

Lincoln's eyes are gentle as he looks at her and then they slowly light up his whole face when he smiles.

"Does this mean..."

Lexa's eyes flicker, and she blinks before looking away. Costia. Does this mean she's over Costia? 

She has no idea. Lexa has felt unbearably fractured and Clarke, well they've only just met. Lexa feels like any day now the time bomb in her chest is going to go off, and she's never going to recover. She remembers Costia, and it hurts in the strangest of ways, but never in the ways she had previously imagined.

"Maybe," she whispers, and he reaches across and taps her hand gently. It's enough to ground her. He always has with his ever-present kindness and compassion. 

Lincoln had his moments during the peak of their combined adolescence where he'd just stay in bed till two in the afternoon or playing his electric guitar till the windows shook, and rarely helping with the housework. But he'd always been kind and he'd wait for her to talk. He never pushed her. Not like Anya.

"It's not like I fucking killed her," Anya growls as she storms into the open lounge area. She tries to stomp in but it's hard to do in only her socks and she groans in frustration.

"Language please, Anya." Indra's voice is quiet but the hint of steel is enough to pull up Anya who glares across at Lexa.  
"And why are you smiling?" 

Her eyes dart over to her siblings, and she notes the way Lincoln had been covering Lexa's hand, the smile on his face and the quickly hidden look on Lexa's as she shuts down.

"I'm not." 

Lexa sighs and tries not to engage which only infuriates Anya, who really fucking misses her sister but what the hell would she know. 

She's apparently the only one who has no idea who this blonde girl is that made Lexa stop in the middle of an all-out run when she was yards ahead. Anya had not expected to catch up let alone tackle Lexa. No-one was able to once Lexa got the ball. It didn't mean Anya couldn't try though.

"So, who the hell is Clarke Griffin that makes you stop in the middle of a rugby game and has you all smiling now?"

Lexa hates how her sister will dig in her heels and not pick up on any social cues. Lexa does not want to talk about it, and she hates that the whole Clarke thing is now growing out of proportion. 

It's Indra who saves her, even if it's a small reprieve.

"Enough! We've got a welcome home meal to finish preparing. Nia needs your help in the kitchen kids."

Anya rolls her eyes and looks over at her sister who is looking so drawn, tired and shut off. She hates it.

"This isn't over, kiddo."

Lexa breathes out. Great. Just fucking great.

Indra laughs and ruffles the hair that has come loose from Lexa's braids.

"Come on, you. Tell me all about what's going on in your life."

She loves Indra. It still amazes her that Lincoln isn't her birth son. Their personalities are ridiculously aligned, and Lexa always feels safe with them. Anya and Nia are challenging, but Lexa knows without a doubt that both women love her. Just differently. More ferociously as if they would go to war for her.

"Oh, there's not much. A lot of work for Titus. We've got a few cases coming up before the Supreme Court. Nothing you'd want to hear about."

Indra stares at her for a very long time. She's taken Lincoln's chair after he'd moved into the kitchen to help Anya and Nia. With a swift flick of the wrist and the remote in her hand, she silences Rory Gilmore as she existentially worries whether she'll get into Harvard or not. 

Indra's long, dark fingers play with some thread that's come loose on the arm of the chair, and she stares at the frayed blue edges for a while before settling on Lexa's deep green eyes. 

There's pain there, and Indra is out of practice traversing this terrible landscape that has become her daughter's world.

"She's gone, Lexa. Do you still need to stay with Titus when there are now so many options open for you?" 

Lexa looks up into her mother's soft eyes. Deceptive eyes. She's been the school principal of Arcadia High for over twenty years, and she knows the psychological profile of every one of her kids. Both at school and here at home. 

She knows when to push. And when to pull. She knows Lexa is hurting and God, Lexa wants to tell her everything, but she's just not ready. She's not sure this is something she can ever say to her mother. Or anyone.

Indra must see something in her eyes that tells her Lexa is about to shut down because she leans back in her chair and laughs softly.

"I know she hurt your ankle but shit, Lexa! Your legs must be feeling like broken shards of glass."

They both laugh, and Lexa shakes her head.

"Jesus mom. Don't swear. It's unnerving. Yes. My wondrous sister did not hold back when she decided to make me eat dirt. I don't think I know who looked more horrified when it happened. I know Clarke almost died."

Lexa blushed as Clarke's name decided to jump out of her mouth again. Involuntarily apparently.

"Ah! Abby's daughter is back." 

Indra's brow furrowed and Lexa's eyes flutter in surprise at the reaction to Clarke's name. 

"She's caused Abby a lot of heartache in the last few years. I didn't think she'd come back for the wedding." 

Indra nodded quietly to herself and then looked up at Lexa.

"Do you like, Clarke?"

"Yes, of course. She seemed nice enough."

"You know what I mean," the tone is deliberate, and she's pulling at the warp and weft of Lexa's walls which Lexa resists. She's lived out of home for almost ten years, and she knows how to handle her mother on the phone where there's no eye contact. It's a lot harder face to face which she's fast realizing and hates it that she's trapped and can't just run away to her room and hide.

"Mom. You're a bit ridiculous. Seriously. I just met the girl."

"Well, according to your mom, she's pretty hot. I was wondering if I needed to go over there and challenge her to a duel. Oh, and apparently she likes you too."

"Jesus. No, Nia? God! That's, that's just - " Lexa's eyes widen in horror before she sees the grin on Indra's face.

Indra snorts, and Lexa playfully glares before she realized what her mom had also said.

"Wait. What? What do you mean she likes me too? And what is this? High school?"

Indra's eyebrow raised, and at that moment Lexa could see where she has got some of her mannerisms. 

Her heart began it's crazy pummelling dance inside her chest but this time, it feels nice.

"Apparently, she groped your ass in front of her mother and yours. That's pretty forward for someone you think is 'nice enough.' And if you felt something, it doesn't matter if it's a minute, an hour or an overnight stay on the train, Lexa. You know that from your mom and I."

Lexa sighed softly. Maybe. Ok. Maybe one day. But she's got to head back to Washington, and as far as she knows, Clarke might be staying in the States, but she's may not necessarily be staying in Arcadia or Polis.

"She's thinking of opening an art gallery here," she blurts out.

Indra's usually careful blank face shows surprise at Lexa's outburst. 

Lexa has been so shut off for the last few years, and since she started seeing Costia, she had drifted far from her family. They're all glad the woman is out of Lexa's life, but the residual stains of her presence are still littered within the broken young woman who is barely holding back a panic attack before her.

She sits forward in her chair, and they both startle when the music starts blaring out from the kitchen. Lincoln's melodious voice is drowned out by Nia's caterwauling and Anya's pseudo yodeling as they sing along to 'My Girl' that's blaring out on the Bluetooth speaker. 

The smells from the kitchen are starting to seep into the room, and Lexa takes in a deep breath. Duck ragout. They're making her favorite. 

She can feel pain and joy sweep up her throat choking her in its intensity. Tears trickle out of the sides of her eyes which she's quickly clenched tight, but the warmth of home and its safety net is what brings her down in a way that nothing has been able to. 

Not the horrible depositions she's been taking for the last ten weeks from children who have cancer because of the drugs the company she's defending has been spilling into their drinking water. 

Not the long hours with Titus and the rest of the team as they look for legal loophole after loophole to see how they can turn this back onto the parents.

Not the images of poisoned water and seeping wounds. 

No. It's the sound of Nia's terrible voice and Anya making fun of her. It's the smell of the food that she's loved since she first came to live with them. The memory of these two amazing mothers trying to find something that would make Lexa eat anything other than fries and bacon bits in a white bread buttered sandwich. 

Lexa brings her fists to her face and begins to weep. She whispers something that Indra only just hears.

"Oh God, what have I done?"

She feels strong arms wrap around her, and she's gently pulled against a warm and familiar chest as she cries.

"Mom, I've done something terrible. Something I don't think I can come back from."

Lexa's voice is awful as it cracks and splinters.

"Lexa love, there isn't anything you can have done that we won't forgive," Indra's voice is firm, and Lexa's body only shakes harder as more sobs tear at her throat.

Nia walks into the lamp-lit room and walks towards them until she sees the look of devastation on her wife's face. She sees her daughter sobbing in Indra's arms and stops. Indra looks up and shakes her head once. She slowly retraces her steps and walks back into the kitchen where it's loud and full of sound, and Lexa's siblings have no idea what's going on in the other room. 

Nia walks to Anya and pulls her into a swift hug.

"You know I love you, right? No matter how much I yell at you?"

Anya pulls back a little to look at her mother in confusion. She can see the seriousness in her eyes and nods slowly.

"I never doubt it. No matter what," Anya says and looks to Lincoln who's finishing off the pappardelle which is sending plumes of steam towards the ceiling as he strains it by the sink.

"And Lexa?" Anya tilts her head, "is she ok?"

Nia lets out a long sigh and looks at both of her kids. 

"No. Not yet." 

There's an unspoken agreement between them as they look towards the lounge. Lexa needs time. 

Nia nods for a moment looking at the mess they've made of the kitchen, "give it another few minutes and then let's set the table."

The next song comes on, and she starts hollering at the top of her lungs as it's wildly appropriate and the timing couldn't be better.

Lincoln and Anya know that something is up with Lexa. Any fool can see that the girl is barely holding it together. 

Anya knows she should shut her mouth but it's not in her nature and maybe it's the only way she knows how to get through to Lexa. 

Nia feels relief flood through her when Lincoln's voice joins her terrible one, and he harmonizes with her as they belt out Homeward Bound. 

Simon and Garfunkel would have rolled in their graves had they been dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my wonderful beta who gave me some great ideas for this chapter and corrected some minor character holes.


End file.
